


Fifty Ways To Win in DC

by Intronerd (PawneeEm)



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6791851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawneeEm/pseuds/Intronerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There must be 50 ways to win this election. Unless you are Selina Meyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Don't We Just Sleep On It Tonight?

Mondays were the worst.

Except that recently, each day has been a disaster. Selina’s humiliation and misfortune wasn’t Monday specific.

The previous week had started off pleasantly enough, when Selina debuted her new haircut; the bob of empowerment.

In the race against dicks of the Chung, Maddox and Thornhill type, those 10 inches of hair were too feminine, too sexy, too un-presidential.

“I have more presidential in me than all of those assholes combined.” She sneered bitterly at Gary.

“Of course you do, ma’am,” Gary agreed vehemently. “But the cut looks ah-ma-zing.”

In hindsight, she shouldn’t have relied on Gary’s ardent exhilaration.

The next day, Selina’s campaign manager was at her most wound up, channelling an Amish boy on spring break, maintaining through it all a maniacally excited demeanor, in true Amy fashion.

“Debate prep, ma'am, everyday into Tuesday.” Amy motioned to the schedule.

Selina’s week went downhill from there.

The debate was a full-blown disaster, not unlike the haircut.

The internerds had a field day with the bob, they called her names like “Boy Wonder” and “Strap-on Selina”, which made no damn sense. She hated men, but she wasn’t a lesbian.

As for the debate, Selina ended up coming second, brought down by the redneck votes, the creepy twitchy-eye, and that venereal disease named Ray who kept coming back to haunt her.

But Selina was second to none, despite her awful choices during times of desperation and horniness.

She required answers from her team of mediocre asswipes regarding the recent defeat, starting with the know-it-all who should be polling and predicting the outcomes of her bad decision making.

“Gary, get me Kent’s decapitated head, and some vanilla pudding, and a real spoon. In that order.”

****

But her senior campaign strategist only showed up several days later, bearing Selina’s next adrenaline rush; The crate.

For a cyborg, Kent knew exactly how to play the caucus goers, he knew how to bring out the charismatic candidate in Selina, and to exploit her flair for bullshiting the riveted crowds.

Campaigning was Selina’s favourite part of a campaign; she relished hearing the cheering normals, and kissing fat babies in “Meyer” onesis.

She also enjoyed meeting the young, green politicians from small boring towns. Men and women who still believed they could actually make a difference. Selina got a kick out of listening to their unrealistic world views, she thanked fuck she was past such fantasies herself.

Once upon a time, she was one of them, passionately advocating issues like paid family leave, affordable health care, and stricter gun control laws.

But then Selina became part of the DC machine, she married a lobbyist, became Senator Meyer, climbed the ladder all the way up to the Vice Presidency, before she metamorphosed into this pragmatic version of her former self.

All in a bid to become 45.

A goal which was looking less attainable as they bled more votes and delegates.

Selina shook off this disconcerting train of thoughts, perusing her stump points one last time while the campaign bus pulled to a stop.

“Hey Gary, bring me my folksy boots, it’s time to mingle with the muggles.”

****

The Vice President was unceremoniously sprawled across a massive bed, unlit cigarette between her lips, wrapped in a bathrobe, bare legs dangling off the end of the mattress, she kept her eyes fixed on the TV, actively ignoring Kent’s presence in the presidential suite.

“We need to talk, ma’am.” Kent took a few calculated steps, blocking Selina’s view of the screen.

She eyed him disdainfully, discerning the grim look on his face, one that implied more crap for her campaign. Selina contemplated summoning up the secret service to dispose of Kent.

However, considering a recent squabble with the fart who headed her protective detail, Selina wasn’t going to give the agent the satisfaction of asking for help.

She was the fucking Vice President of these United States, and she should be allowed to smoke wherever the fuck she pleased. Security concerns be damned.

Selina sat up, bracing for bad news.

Kent flew to Vermont, where another rally had finished earlier that day, to deliver the latest polls in person. The Meyer campaign was 15 points behind Thornhill, and 8 points behind Chung.

“Are you here to abandon this sinking ship, Kent?”

She was going to lose New York, Connecticut and Wisconsin, even Selina’s home state of Maryland was too close to call.

Everything about the man before her radiated exhaustion, despite looking as uptightly unruffled as ever. She hoped he wasn’t going to collapse in her suite, It would be a PR disaster.

Selina indicated he should sit, Kent reluctantly lowered himself to the edge of the bed across from her.

“Just... How the fuck am I losing to those factory reject dildos?” she inquired, “and don’t give me some lame ass platitudes, I need an actual answer.”

Selina did not expect any answer, let alone such bold one.

“Despite the crate, America still did not want to invite you in for a beer, ma’am” Kent explained, “you are not the traditional family values candidate America wants.”

“What did you say?” Selina yelled indigently. 

“Ma’am, due to your gender, your Senate voting record and your divorced status, the narrative couldn’t be shifted from your personal life to the issues,” Kent continued.

“Because of my fucking family values?”

“Voters believe you’re either having no sex, or too much unwedded sex,” Kent cringed conspicuously, “either way, they don’t think you should have access to the nuclear codes.”

Her following rant was as loud as it was chock-full of colourfully chosen expletives.

To his benefit, Kent waited calmly until she was done, except when he helpfully concurred regarding America’s bigotry.

Once she’d simmered down, Selina slid off the bed and went to the minibar, she brought over a few mini vodkas and whiskeys for the both of them. Kent hesitated briefly, but screwed open his bottle at Selina’s daring glare.

They drank in comfortless silence, passively watching some random sitcom playing on TV.

The camera followed a chubby woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in mismatched patterns of bright clashing colors, as she climbed her way up all 102 floors of the Empire State Building, apparently seeking some fictional love interest, a smallish Italian guy, who was nonchalantly eating pizza at a nearby place.

“Pathetic.” Selina muttered to herself.

“Grand romantic gestures are for imbeciles,” Kent agreed, “or people like Ben.” Selina sniggered.

Kent shed his jacket and loosened his tie. He probably had no idea he would be getting boozy with the vice president when he’d arrived here earlier in the evening. He tried to leave after one mini bottle of vodka, and then again after downing his second whiskey, but Selina ordered him to man up and get drinking.

It’s been a while since Selina herself drank this much, not since before assuming office. Tonight however, Selina desperately needed to forget her shitty reality.

Her favorite diversions have always been booze and sex, and while Selina was already pretty liquored up, sex wasn’t a possibility in her future, unless…

Her eyes shifted back to the man with the core of steel, Selina watched as Kent rolled up his sleeves, mesmerized by the covertly muscled forearms. She shuffled closer.

“Well, America is right on the fucking ball, I do love sex,” she grinned mischievously, “unfortunately, I haven’t had any - with another person- in a little over eight months,” Selina slyly leaned into his personal space, “Nobody wants a frustrated president, right?”

“How inebriated are you, ma’am?” Kent leaned away, a flush touching his cheeks beneath the trimmed beard.

“I am not drunk enough to forget how crappy my political future is,” Selina rolled her eyes, “although, inebriated enough to think that we both can scratch this itch, and never speak of it again.”

Her mind was made up, Selina wanted this man, this antagonistic robot who got on her nerves on a regular basis.

Selina captured the lanyard to his security pass and pulled Kent closer, her bathrobe fell open, revealing she had nothing underneath. Kent kept his eyes fixed on her face.

“Let go, ma’am.” Kent attempted to pry her fingers loose, restraining both wrists in one strong grip.

“Make me.” Selina replied petulantly.

Selina watched the tirade of thoughts warring for control, leaving him with steely determination.

Kent rolled them over, and brought her arms up above her head, pinning Selina to the bed. He took off her glasses and threw them aside.

Their congregation was a frenzy of lust and teeth, revenge and desperation, they fucked in the same manner they argued.

Just like every argument they braved, Selina accepted nothing but victory.

****

New Hampshire was as pleasant as a root canal.

But then again, Selina was having one of the shittiest days of her political career, so it might not be the New Hampshire weather.

“Ma’am, Kent is here.” Amy interrupted, as Selina was seconds away from a full-blown melt down in front of the poor refugees.

Selina hadn’t seen him since that night in Vermont. She woke the next morning sore, satiated and solo.

That was Kent Davison, No fuss, no drama, no awkward morning after, he simply got his shit together and went back to DC. Selina admired his efficiency.

Although, not nearly as much as she admired his talent and remarkable stamina, Selina’s face flushed a little as she shook off that train of thought.

“He's acting weird.” Amy continued obliviously, “Not normal weird, weird-weird.”

Selina eyed Kent apprehensively, his agitation and inability to get to the point alarmingly out of character. Selina paled when the one likely reason dawned on her. Shit.

But how could anyone have known about their one night stand. The piece of shit must have bragged to one of his buddies in the administration about banging the vice president. Her political career was about to down with a sex scandal.

Selina approached Kent with a sneer, ready to slap him senseless, when Kent’s next words hit her.

“Ma'am, you're about to become the 45th President of the United States.”

.... 

-TBC-


	2. I Hope My Meaning Won't Be Lost or Misconstrued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ I no longer have the compelling urge to stab you. I call this progress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back for chapter two!  
> I kind of love the idea of Selina being the Secret Service's worst nightmare :)

Finally, things were lining up for Selina Meyer.

The hallways between the elevator and her office were lined up with ass-kissers in all shapes and sizes.

Selina’s day has come.

For a moment she contemplated calling her mother to rub it in the old hag’s face, but the thought was interrupted by her senior advisor.

“Ma'am, you’re now only one point away from Chung.” Kent told her in his most excited tone, which was basically the same as his everyday tone.

“Hell, I am the fucking president and he is not.” Selina grinned widely, holding up her right hand for a high five. Kent eyed her vacantly, he did not attempt to touch the outstretched hand.

Apparently, he was not a high-five kind of man.

Selina shrugged and walked into her outer office, this was her last week at the Eisenhower building. She will not miss this dreary place one fucking bit.

“The oath will take place tomorrow at twelve noon.” Sue greeted her with the schedule.

“Oh yeah!” Selina tried again, moving to high-five Sue, to the Veep’s utter surprise, the younger woman accepted the gesture.

Selina turned to throw Kent a triumphant glare, but he was busy hanging the coat she’d tossed at him.

This was on par with Beyonce’s endorsement. Selina had been trying to get Sue to like her for the past 5 years. This president thing was off to a good start.

A treacherous voice whispered in her head: _Interim president_.

Selina ignored it and marched on. It was time to get her presidency in order…

“Ben. Here boy, come to me.”

***

"I, Selina Catherine Meyer, do solemnly swear..."

Her first day as first woman president was off to a rocky start.

In fact, more like a crap storm of disproportionate magnitudes.

This was going down as her legacy; a squeaky pair of louboutins and Iran three steps away from nuking the shit out of Israel.

“Oh fucking shit. What have you done to me Kent!” she glared at her advisor, “You should have questioned the name.”

With all the mediocrity she was surrounded with, Selina could rely on three people; Sue, Ben and Kent. Sometimes Amy.

But Kent, a formidable strategist, one of DC’s most coveted political minds on this side of the isle.

It looked like Selina has ruined him with her vagina.

Selina scrutinized him carefully, perhaps for the first time since their drunken romp, she contemplated Kent’s recent odd behaviour.

The situation was definitely awkward. When they did it, Selina’s political future was DOA, she no longer held any capital over him. However, since he showed up in New Hampshire that fateful morning, Kent was no longer his level-headed, droid-like self.

Selina will scold him later, in the meantime she sent him back to New Hampshire where he would get his head back in the game, and she wouldn't be distracted by the way this charcoal suit flattered his ridiculously taut hips.

Selina was extremely busy, not dead.

“Ma’am, Catherine took a very bad selfie with Kim Kardashian.” Dan appeared out of nowhere.

“Bad as in butt naked bad?” Selina blinked.           

“No, just… teeth and flared nostrils bad,” Dan explained, “It went viral and the internet is not being too chill about it."

“Jesus.” Selina grimaced, “We have an agreement! She knows she’s not supposed to open the front camera under any circumstances.” Selina’s only daughter didn’t inherit her mother’s photogenic features. Thank goodness she had a cushy trust fund.

“Alright, Kent is off to New Hampshire to poll this latest fuckup, Ben you will stay here and get this mess with Leslie Carr fixed, Dan, get me my daughter on the phone,” Selina fired rapidly, “and Gary, for the last time, I will not discuss inaugural balls in the middle of a fucking international crisis.”

***

Was she gonna make it?

It was past midnight. Selina tossed and turned for a long while, the dreadful trepidation wouldn't allow her any sleep.

She asked Ben this morning, but his nonchalant reassurance fell flat, so did his promise of endless fun.

Tonight in New Hampshire, she lost her fourth consecutive primary, where was the fun that?

Selina could no longer lie still with the restless energy coursing through her veins. She climbed out of bed.

Despite knowing better, she had a destination in mind.

Selina combed a hand through her short hair, not bothering to don a robe on top of her flannel pajamas, she shoved her feet into a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers.

She quietly peeked in on Catherine, who was spending the night in Selina’s suite, they will both fly back to DC the next day. Her daughter was fast asleep. Selina discreetly slipped out of the presidential suite.

Selina heard two voices conversing quietly down the hall. She tiptoed across the padded corridor, before coming to a halt. Selina realized she no idea which room she should be breaking into.

“Er….” The two agents turned at the sound, reaching for their weapons. “Jesus, it’s me! don’t shoot!” Selina screeched.

“Madam President, you can’t be outside the secure area unescorted.” The male agent physically flattened Selina’s back to the wall, while the female swept the hallway.

“I am not making a run for it, you idiots, just going down the hall to talk to a member of my staff.” Selina snapped, she was the fucking president, not their prisoner. Selina drew herself to her full height. Not all that baleful in her current attire. Selina continued with a defiant glare, “It’s urgent government business.”

The two agents exchanged a strained glance, but kept a rigorous professional posture.

Selina could hear the muffled sound of the TV being turned off before his door flew open.

“Mr Davison, Please step outside while we secure the premises.” The agent instructed a baffled Kent, who’d answered the door in his boxer shorts and undershirt.

“I do not appreciate being compromised in such manner,” Kent snapped in a hushed tone, as he eyed the agents moving through his room, inspecting the closets and drawing the blinds shut.

“They are here for my safety, they don’t give a shit about your beauty sleep.” Although it didn't look like he was asleep either.

“All clear, ma’am” The agent finally ushered them both inside and shut the door.

Selina walked around, giving his room the once-over, other than the laptop open on the bed, it didn’t even look lived in.

“Why are you here, Madam President?”

“Because Catherine is sleeping in my room.” She replied cheekily. He scowled in return. “Don’t give me that constipated look.” Selina snapped.

“I have work to finish, so I would appreciate knowing the reason behind this visit.”

“And I would appreciate knowing what the fuck is up with you?” Selina poked at his chest.

“I beg your pardon?” Kent placed his hands on his waist, however, in his current underdressed status, it had a wholly different effect. Selina refused to get distracted by this.

“You have been as useless as a second butthole,” Selina accused, “instead of doing your fucking job, using your own fucking brain, you have become a… Gary.”

“God forbid that you should own up to _your_ fuckups,” Kent sneered, “ma’am,” he added as an afterthought. The salutation never sounded so insulting.

“Well, I’m sorry if your inflated ego can’t handle a woman way, way more powerful than you’ll ever be.”

“Powerful.” Kent snorted, “We both know that you are merely keeping the seat warm for the party’s next male nominee.”

“And we both know the real issue here,” Selina’s voice lowered to a deceptively sweet tone. “Your inability to control me the way you controlled that wet noodle, Hughes.”

Selina watched him sigh exasperatedly, “Despite your presumptions about my agenda. I did _not_ abandon your campaign when failure was imminent, nor did I jump ship when I was approached by the other camp.” Kent replied carefully, “loyalty is a large part of a political capital.”

Selina regarded him thoughtfully, sensing a splash of sincerity.

“Believe it or not,” Selina conceded, “I am not here to fight.”

“Then why are you here?” Kent inquired, for what seemed like the tenth time tonight.

“To reawaken the God-awful, old Kent, the one who had something to say about each and every decision.” Selina poked at his chest. Kent scowled in response.

Selina gathered her courage, leaning a little closer into his personal space.

“One more thing.” Selina added coyly, “We had fun, in Vermont, right?”

“That is correct.” Kent’s brow furrowed, not expecting her to bring it up, ever again.

“I have decided that your dick is my lucky charm. I fucked you, and the next day I became the president.”

His face flushed, Selina enjoyed having the upper hand for once, she delighted in her newly acquired ability to rattle his cage.

“What I am saying is, I think we should have more fun, as often as possible.” Selina’s eyes twinkled, “Unrestricted access to fun.”

“This would not be advisable under the current circumstances.” Kent responded after a contemplative pause. “Just because something is fun, doesn’t mean we should be doing it.”

He didn’t oppose the _fun_ , just the logistics. Selina observed.

“I am here to propose a great fucking Chinese wall,” Selina set her terms like the lawyer she once was, “On this side is the presidency and your somewhat significant role as my advisor, on the other side is this stipulation, where two consenting, single adults get their needs satisfied, have a little fun and remain on friendly terms.”

“Friendly?” Kent’s lips twitched slightly.

“I mean, I no longer have the compelling urge to stab you.” Selina grinned, “I call this progress.”

“Or punch me in the eye with a tube of lipstick?” Kent smirked.

“Jesus that was like a million years ago.” Selina scowled, “You _are_ single though, correct? You cancel your subscription to the little daytime drama starring Sue Wilson?” She pressed.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Kent snapped, “Sue and I are no longer an item.” Her only response was a mere unsympathetic snort.

“Under this agreement, you don’t get any preferential treatment or additional access,” Selina warned, “You don’t get to gloat to Ben, you don’t get to tell a soul, or so help me God,” her jaw was set, “I'm gonna ban math from the American school system, until your species is extinct.”

“Such winsome offer. How could I possibly say no?” Kent mocked.

The silence stretched out for a moment, Selina went for broke.

“As for winsome,” Selina lowered her voice, standing on tiptoe, bringing her face an inch from his, “you get to exclusively bang the leader of the free world, on her knees, on all fours, just like in Vermont.”

Although she knew she had him, Selina admired his willpower immensely. Kent didn't move a muscle, nor did he break eye contact.

“So, I will leave you to it, you can mull it over and get back to me. But you should know, I don’t like being kept waiting.”

Selina feigned leaving, when his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, turning Selina back to face him.

“Chinese wall?” Kent’s gaze intensified.

Selina could only nod in response.

“We are equals in this.” Kent demanded.

“We were never equals.” Selina provoked, “And we will never—“

Kent cut her off, covering Selina’s mouth with his, with a tenacity that set Selina’s nerve ending on fire.

His hands roamed her body, before settling on her ass, she was beginning to notice a pattern. Kent was decidedly an ass man.

Kent tugged at Selina’s pajamas with one hand, while the other tangled in her hair. He broke the kiss in order to focus on her neck. Selina sighed, enjoying the attention.

Selina kicked her pants off, standing before him, bare from the waist down. Ken’t fingers leisurely travelled across her spine, and all the way down to where she needed them most, Selina gasped out loud at the first contact.

Some niggling part of Selina’s brain was apparently still operational, she pushed weakly at his chest, “Kent, hey.” Her objections were muffled as Kent reclaimed her lips.

Selina was distracted once more by the rhythm his fingers created, _in and out_ , she almost forgot why she was trying to stop this awesome feeling in the first place. _Almost_.

“Wait, wait!” Selina gasped, breaking free. “The TV. Put it back on.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kent pushed away from her, breathing erratically.

“Unless you want to give the Secret Service a free show, we need some background noises.”

Comprehension, followed closely by apprehension, clouded his features.

Selina had long since adapted to her life in the public eye, no privacy was allowed, it’s one of the main reasons she was unable to establish any lasting relationships, Other than men being unadulterated assholes.

Kent however, was part of the political scene, he understood her reality more than most, and yet, Selina worried he might opt out, leaving her wet and wanting.

Instead he took her hand and dragged her over to the bed, Kent reclined against the headboard and hauled Selina down to straddle him. Kent picked the remote, blindly flicking the TV on.

Their lips met once again, Selina didn't normally enjoy the kissing part so much, she preferred spending more time on the main event, but kissing Kent made their little arrangement less unseemly.

Kent placed his hands on her breasts, made more accessible by this new position. Selina began to rock in his lap, enjoying the way his hardness pressed into her core through the thin material of his boxers. Selina reached down to divest him of his underwear…

 _‘Would somebody get this big walking carpet out of my way.’_ A voice hollered from the TV set.

They paused, both turning to the screen. Selina burst out laughing, this was fucking absurd.

She felt him twitch beneath her, relishing the vibration her laughter created.

“So this is what the great Kent Davison watches when he’s alone?” Selina goaded him.

“Be quiet and start moving, Ma’am.” Kent deadpanned.

For the next thirty minutes or so, Selina’s world was void of responsibilities, nuclear crisis and other shitstorms. The universe was just this man, who looked and smelled fine, and who actually knew how to get Selina’s engines going. This man who expected nothing in return, other than mutual gratification.

Selina reckoned this arrangement was gonna prove beneficial for her empowerment as well as her mental health.

“Man! Keep working that steel core of yours, no matter how much I make fun of you.”

Selina flipped on her back next to him, spent and exhilarated, trying to catch her breath.

Kent regarded her sardonically, before pulling the duvet up and covering them both.

Selina grimaced at the idea of having to go back to her own suite, but she’s already been gone too long, and Catherine was bound to discover her absence.

But Selina wasn’t ready yet to let go of this contented peacefulness, nor to go back to the real world outside of their sex bubble.

Kent sensed her mood, and turned to face her “What’s on your mind?”

“My hair isn’t growing fast enough.” Selina deflected, “I can’t spend my entire presidency looking like this.”

Kent extended his hand, reaching for her bangs and gingerly brushing them aside.

“You should have let me poll this new look beforehand.”

Selina glared at him, then flipped on her side so they were facing each other. She mirrored his gesture, reaching up to touch his thick, impressive mop of hair. Selina fingers parted and tucked the soft strands behind one ear.

“There. Now we have matching hairdos.” Selina giggled at her own joke. Kent was not equally impressed.

The silence extended between them for a few moments.

“I thought I still had eight months to prepare for this.” The words were out before she could stop them. The sex must have messed with her faculties.

Selina knew better than to show weakness in front of the vultures. She sat up, sliding out from under the covers, ready to flee.

“You have been prepared for years,” Kent’s words stopped her. “Hughes should have never won the nomination. You are ten times the politician he will ever be." He closed his eyes, beginning to drift off to sleep. "This is your rightful moment, Madam President.”

Selina schooled her features, she wasn’t about to show him any fucking gratitude. Instead, she slipped back under the covers. Selina rested her head on his bare chest and closed her eyes as well.

Her mind was made up, the world might not end if she stayed a little longer.

 

***

“Ma’am, your 10 o’clock is here,” Sue ushered a tall, grim looking man into the oval office, “Special Agent Hotchner, head of POTUS secret service detail.”

“Thank you for seeing me, Madam President.” The agent greeted courteously.

“You are my first official meeting in the oval office, Agent.” Selina plastered on her campaign smile, “You just made history.”

His face remained completely passive.

“So, you are twice as good as the previous guy?” Everyone knew the Vice president was no target for assassinations, Selina was happy with the security upgrade.

“I can assure you ma’am, we are the best.”

The man definitely lacked a sense of humor. He launched into a detailed account of rotations, mobile units and body doubles.

“Regarding FDOTUS, we will have to move her out of the dormitories into a residential building off campus,” he continued, “It’s less of a security risk.”

Selina didn’t feel guilty that her political career always seemed to screw something up for Catherine. The kid was lucky enough to have a mother who was the first female president in history. Catherine did however love the dorms life, she called it _‘a silver lining to the cloud that is her one hundred years of solitude.’_ Whatever the fuck that meant.

Poor Catherine got her drama queen tendencies from her father.

“Sure whatever.” Selina blinked.

“As for the body doubles, we are recruiting from the academy, both agents will be in New York with Ms. Meyer before the end of the week.”

“Good luck finding a cadet with that much baby fat,” Selina snorted, “let alone two--“

“Madam President, we need to discuss the New Hampshire incident.” He cut her off. Were they even allowed to do that?

“They tattled?” Selina scowled.

“I reviewed the incident report, ma’am, the agents followed procedure.” He replied grimly.

“Well I don’t appreciate their interference into my personal business.” Selina snapped.

“Each and every one of my agents will take a bullet for you ma’am. You need to be able to trust them.” He continued, “Your safety directly correlates to national security, to the stability of the economy.”

“I don’t like your condescending tone, agent.”

“My apologies, Madam President.” He appeared sincerely apologetic.

“What I am trying to say is; discretion will never be an issue, we value your safety and privacy. You won’t even notice our presence, unless there’s an emergency alert.”

“Alright, but only because you come highly recommended.” Selina smirked, “I'm told you haven’t had an incident since 1963.”

The agent appeared sufficiently horrified. Selina sat back, pleased with herself.

“If that’s all, ma’am?” the agent inquired.

“Actually agent Hotchner, there’s one more thing.” Selina chose her words carefully, “I would like to add a third person to the residence access code. A senior staffer”

“Senior staff will typically be escorted by an agent, in and out of the residence, during working hours.”

“Atypically, this one will be in and out post working hours.” Selina fixed him with a stern look, daring the agent to object. He was no match to Selina, he conceded.

“Consider it handled.”

-TBC-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments, feedback and whatnot make me very happy. Thank you!


	3. I'd Like To Help You In Your Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She shall from time to time give to Congress information of the State of the Union.”

The international political scene was conspiring against her sleeping patterns.

“Kent." Selina shook his shoulder, none too gently. "Wake up.”

Selina’s sleep was disrupted by a call from Ben, who alerted her of a developing situation in Europe. Something involving a satirical cartoon, which rubbed some fucking lunatics the wrong way, they opened fire on a room full of people. She was still too comatose for that part to register.

Selina needed to get to the situation room, but first she had to rouse the man who fell asleep in her bed earlier. It wasn’t the first time they dozed off post-coitus. Selina didn’t mind, as long as he was gone before Gary arrived to ‘dress her up’ in the morning.

“Fatalities?” Kent inquired, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Yeah.” Selina sighed, “You’ll be getting a call from Ben soon. I need you on the statement. Please don’t let Mike handle it solo.”

“Yes, Madam President.”

“Think you’ll ever lose the ‘Madam President’ thing?” Selina slipped him a curious glance.

“I would rather apply your appropriate title, if you don’t mind.” Kent didn’t look up from his Blackberry.

“You’re literally butt naked in my bed.” Selina rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

She was too groggy to argue the ridiculousness of his response right now. The clock read four in the morning.

The fucking terrorists had absolutely no regard for time zone differences.

Three weeks into the presidency, and Selina was positively drained. On average, she clocked between 18 and 20 hours of work per day, actual stressful work, where she had to make decisions, negotiate bipartisan shit, and boss people around. No more fancy Veep duties.

Selina shuddered, thinking about the horse she had in this race, which could win her 8 more years of this crap.

“I will see you tonight then.” Kent proposed distractedly.

“No.” Selina’s nose crinkled, “Catherine is coming over.”

Selina anticipated another lecture about the Meyer administration’s lack of support for the poor and underprivileged. Selina was beginning to regret sending her only offspring to that liberal arts school where everyone was an activist of some sort.

“Understood.” Kent mumbled, already up and buttoning up his shirt.

Selina was leaving this warm, cozy room, and this half naked man, in the middle of the night, in order to weigh in on an attack she didn’t understand, on a continent she barely liked.

Whoever questioned women’s perseverance, should be slapped. Preferably by a dick.

Selina huffed and picked up her coat, muttering to no one in particular.

“Fuck you, Europe.”

 

****

 

“Law making is a bit more complicated than that, Catherine.”

The argument has been going on for what felt like hours. Selina wiped her eyes with one hand.

Catherine arrived earlier in the evening to relay some of her latest concerns. Something to do with gun control, or teen pregnancy or something. Selina wasn’t exactly listening.

In less than a week, Selina was going before Congress, and the rest of the nation, to deliver her first State of the Union Address, a moment she’d anticipated for so long.

Although, Selina had always thought she would be elected first.

Meanwhile, Selina and her team were scheduled to fly out to Camp David this weekend, to finalize the speech away from DC. According to both Ben and Kent, failing to uphold this tradition, would result in bad mojo for her administration. It was alarming to see the two nemesis agree on something.

“You’re not even trying, mom!” Catherine was still arguing.

“This is not North Korea, honey.” Selina looked heavenward, “I don’t have the jurisdiction to expunge stuff off the bill of rights, because my child finds them _lame_.”

 “Call me idealistic, mom, but I thought you could at least devote some of the 8 months you have left in office to making a difference!”

“You don’t believe I will still be here after the 8 months?” Selina’s jaw clenched. She expected her daughter of all people to be on her side.

“ _You_ don’t believe you will be here in 8 months.” Catherine exclaimed, waving her arms in the general direction of the oval. “Look around you mom, there’s not a single personal item on your desk.”

“Where would I find the time—“

“You’ve been here for a whole month!” Catherine cut her off, “You are avoiding getting emotionally attached, the way you do with everything.”

Selina stammered for words, her often explosive outrage abandoning her in the face of Catherine’s brutal honesty. This is how her only daughter perceived her; detached, cold and egotistical. It fucking stung.

“Catherine, I--”

“Ma’am, sorry to interrupt.” Ben chose that moment to burst in. “You are needed in the sit room, Russia and Ukraine are at it again.”

“Thank God!”

Selina was out the door in a flash.

 

***

 

“You appear preoccupied.”

Selina stood by the mirror, absently wiping off the remnants of her makeup. She turned to regard the man spread out on the bed, looking unlike his usual well-pressed self in a plaid shirt and a pair of faded jeans.

Despite the cold February weather, the presidential lodge at Camp David was warm, and much cozier than Selina expected. Her entire day was spent at speech-prep camp, it was worse than actual camp.

The moment Gary was _finally_ gone, she summoned Kent, needing to unwind a bit.

She couldn’t get her mind off Catherine’s earlier outburst.

“The speech is shit.” Selina threw her brush on the dresser, “We are wasting time here.” She walked over and took a seat next to Kent.

“I agree.”

“Catherine thinks I’m pussy-assing because of the elections.”

“Statistically speaking, every decision you make in the next 6 months will have a direct impact on the result of the elections.”

“Yeah, but I still wanna do something for the people,” Selina suggested, “like save the foul smelling homeless, or battered women or something.”

“Up until next November, you are in fact the most powerful person in the government.” Kent pointed his index finger. “Pick a fight, and we will make it work accordingly.”

“Most powerful, huh?” Selina smirked.

“Some might even argue, the most powerful in the world.” Kent inclined his head.

Selina slid closer to crawl into his lap, “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She murmured, wrapping her legs around his waist. Their lips met in a languid, unhurried kiss.

Selina began to relax a little.

His hands trailed a hot path up her bare thighs, while Selina raked her hands through his hair. She enjoyed his precision and utter focus on doing the things she enjoyed. Kent slid the silk robe off her shoulders, leaving Selina clad in a matching set of black lace underwear.

“Oh.” Selina broke the kiss, gasping. “How do we make it work?” She panted against his lips.

“You can remain on top. I will support your downward pelvic movements.” Kent mumbled, leaning forward to capture her lips once more.

“Christ not the fucking!” Selina smacked his shoulder, “The Meyer legacy. You just said you can make it work. How do we do that?”

“Right now?” Kent groaned.

“Yes.”

Kent sat back against the headboard, carefully shifting Selina off him, untangling their limbs, “alright, what kind of issue are you considering.”

“Well, I have always wanted to help single moms,” Selina confessed, after a moment of hesitation, “After all, I was raised by one.  I myself am a single mom, albeit _a_ _hot_ single mom.” Selina grinned mischievously. “A MILF as the kids say.”

“True.” Kent nodded. She blinked. He didn’t compliment her physical appearance. Ever.

“So what do we do now?” Selina deflected.

“We shall draft a bill that could help out single mothers.”

“You are actually willing to do this right now?” Selina raised a brow.

“It’s my duty, Madam President” Kent simply responded, “and my privilege.”

Selina went to squeeze his knee in appreciation, Kent’s hand shot out to stop her. “Just give me a minute.”

She glanced down at his lap and sniggered, “There’ll be time for little Kent later.” Selina promised.

Kent returned fifteen minutes later, loaded with his laptop, flip charts and markers. He taped a couple of blank sheets to the full-wall glass windows.

“Your economic team in DC can work the finer details later, but in the meantime, I will crunch the numbers, while you handle the tax margins, as well as the legislative guidelines.”

“Conservatives will crucify me.” Selina frowned.

“But you want to do it anyway?”

“I _will_ do it anyway.”

It took them a little more than three hours of arguing, researching, insulting each other, as well as different members of congress, but eventually they were able to reach a conclusion.

Finally, the ‘Families First’ bill saw the light.

Kent took down the other sheets of paper, leaving only the one holding the first draft of their bill, hanging proudly in the middle of the window panel.  Selina stepped closer to admire their handiwork. She sighed contentedly.

Kent walked up behind Selina, he draped his arms around her waist. She relaxed back against his chest. Kent rested his chin on top of her head.

“This was fucking awesome!” Selina declared, “Like having five orgasms at once.”

Kent’s response was to squeeze Selina’s forearms. He touched her more readily in the past couple of weeks.

“Do you think we can sell this to the voters?”

“Women voters favoured you over the party’s male candidates in the polls, the question is whether they will vote in the general elections.” Kent’s hands slid lower while he spoke.

Selina felt a familiar heat crawling up her spine. Kent rubbed his fingers along the taut muscles of her midriff.

“This is your ultimate nerd fantasy, huh?” Selina cupped the back of his neck to draw Kent’s lips to hers, “Math and nudity.”

“You appear to have enjoyed the political foreplay yourself.” Kent’s fingers dipped under the waistband of her underwear and into her slick heat, emphasizing his point.

“Are you complaining?” Selina challenged, although her voice came out all breathy and needy.

His answer was to shuffle them both forward, lifting Selina’s arms above her head. She braced her weight against the windowpane.

Selina wondered if he’d noticed how exposed they were. She wondered if he’d pushed her up here intentionally. Not that anyone would dare peek through the windows to POTUS’ private cabin. Still, she didn’t expect Kent to be so adventurous.

Kent didn’t bother removing her underwear, he dragged the thin material aside and pushed in. She would never admit it, but Selina loved the feeling his beard created against her skin, particularly when he fucked her from behind.

Once they were both completely spent, Selina didn’t have the energy to walk to the bed, instead, she slid down the wall, dragging him along. They rested in mutual blissful silence. Selina felt herself starting to drift off.

“I was raised by a working single mother myself.” Kent broke the silence, his eyes fixed on the snow covered trees outside. "Back then, this bill would have made our lives much different. Much easier."

Selina opened her eyes and bit her lip uncertainly. She wanted to ask whether his mother too scheduled a  _very busy_ social agenda, leaving her only child behind. She wanted to know if his mother blamed him for her loneliness as well, or whether she treated him for as long as he remembered like a failure and a nuisance. Selina said nothing instead.

She was never part of a relationship like this one before. _Would she call it a relationship?_ A relationship with an employee, whom she trusted enough to sleep with discreetly, but not enough to let her guard down completely.

Kent was this apathetic robot, who was also honest and loyal, but only ever since he joined her side. He was extremely smart, yet very socially awkward. And for the life of her, Selina couldn’t figure out why he’d recently started opening up and sharing tiny bits of himself, every now and then, of his past and present.

She was curious as to what made Kent Davison the man he was today, she couldn’t however figure out a way to inquire, without sounding too interested. She _wasn’t_.

“It’s the fucking worst.” Selina eventually empathized, before changing the subject, “I’m gonna call Ben, he needs to review the draft before we plug it into the speech.”

“Of course.” Kent agreed, “Although, I would appreciate it if you do not, under any circumstances, bring up Ben while we are both disrobed.” Kent sombrely added. Selina couldn’t resist teasing him some more.

“In that case, I will keep my suggestion of a senior staff threesome for another night.”

 

***

 

“It’s a tailleur, not a dress. A perfect fit for you.”

Gary gushed, he struggled to keep up with Selina’s pace while lugging around the leviathan. She rounded the corner, on her way to Kent’s office.

The speech was coming along wonderfully, she was having a good week.

Selina threw his door open. A young blonde sitting across from Kent jumped to her feet.

She had seen this young woman a bunch of times around the west wing, though Selina didn’t care enough to learn her name or what she does.

“Out.” Selina jerked her thumb towards the door. “You too Gary.”

“What can I do for you, Madam President?” Kent eyed the closed door wearily.

Selina furrowed her brows, figuring she’d interrupted something interesting between him and that foetus. Selina chose to ignore this ridiculous, unsolicited twist of irritation in her gut, focusing instead on what she came in here to say.

“Listen to this,” Selina inhaled a calming breath, _“She_ shall from time to time give to Congress information of the State of the Union.”

Kent’s face remained blank.

“ _She_ Shall! Did you see what I did there?” Selina’s grin faltered, “I could open up with this line.”

“While that is indeed entertaining, ma’am.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “I don’t believe it is customary for the president to open with a joke.”

“You are a fucking hoot to have around.” Selina deflated.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anyway, I will see you tonight. We can get _Reservoir Dogs_ on the Netflix thing,” Selina proposed, poking fun at his ridiculous commentary to the joint chiefs this morning.

Kent hung his head, Selina’s grin grew back.

“But FYI. I have to sleep early, need to be alert for the big day tomorrow.”

“My apologies, ma’am, but I have prior commitments for the evening.”

“You are seriously blowing me off?” Selina frowned.

“Simply rescheduling.” Kent looked down at his files.

Selina stood back and crossed her arms over her chest. She failed to picture Kent with any kind of a social life, like a circle of college friends he would meet regularly for drinks. Kent was a loner, as far as she knew, he was always at work, hauled up in his little office pouring over some polling results or statistics.

Although, two or three times a week, Selina would call him up to the residence after hours, and he would always show up. He was yet to turn her down.

She guessed he was finally playing his ‘We are equals’ card.

Selina turned to leave, her head held high. She had matters of higher significance to attend to.

“My sister is in town.” Kent’s voice stopped her, “She’s in DC for a conference. We are having dinner.”

Selina exhaled, and turned around to face him. He frowned, it didn’t look like he relished the idea of this outing. Selina’s smirk returned.

“Have fun.” She threw over her shoulder as she walked out of his office.

Gary was waiting by the door, chatting amiably with one of her agents. He jumped to his feet once he saw her.

The group scurried along the hallways after Selina, when she recalled a question she had for him.

“Who’s that girl?”

Her bag-man had a panicked look, “The girl?”

“Plump Barbie. Ugly skirt. No stockings.” Selina waved a hand in the general direction of Kent’s office.

“Leigh Patterson,” Gary exclaimed in recognition, “She is a communication intern. Economics major from Northwestern. She’s Mr Davison’s mentee.”

Selina recalled the school also being Kent’s alma mater. “He has time to mentor a bunch of fucking brainless interns?” She frowned.

“I think it’s just Leigh, ma’am.”

Selina decided that she didn’t like this girl. Not one fucking bit.

Something else popped into Selina’s head, she halted in the middle of a corridor. Five agents, Gary and two aides, all came to a stop as well, effectively blocking the hallway.

“Did you mention a tailleur?”

 

***

 

_40 Minutes to her first State of The Union Address._

_Probably the last too_. Selina’s treacherous subconscious whispered.

“Shut up!”

Gary jumped back, he was hovering, having just finished applying more blush to her cheeks.

“Not you.” Selina snapped, ignoring the anxious looks her team exchanged.

They were gathered in a small meeting room, on the second floor of The Capitol, adjoining The House chamber.

Selina sat at the head of the table, taking in this latest curveball to the tits.

So much was riding on this speech. The next eight months, her candidacy, her legacy.

Obscured by the conference table, Selina drummed her fingers on her left knee. _One, two, three._

_30 Minutes to her first State of The Union Address._

“Jesus Ben, you didn’t think to ask the senator whose federal funding will be slaughtered.” Selina seethed.

“It was that last minute cock-thump, Madam President.” Ben grunted.

“Fucking Furlong, coming after my first legislation.” Selina fumed, “Amy, call him back in here and tell him to go sit in a pile of pine cones. The sharp ones.”

“You cannot antagonize Furlong right now, we need his endorsement at the convention.”

“We can lose the new bill and stick to ultra-vague Hughes spending plans.” Dan suggested.

“No! Families First stays,” Selina’s jaw clinched.

Beneath the conference table, her hand continued to drum her knee. _One, two, three. One, two, three._

 

_20 Minutes to her first State of The Union Address._

“What was that hassle out there?” Selina asked Amy who’d just returned to the table.

“Congressman Buttfield of Arkansas brought his new mistress along, they ran into his ex, Senator Buttfield of Colorado. It didn’t go well.” Amy explained.

“Butterfield.” Kent pointed.

“He looks like a _Buttfield_ to me.” Amy shrugged, earning an evil looking smile from Dan.

“You still need to make a final decision.” Ben reminded her.

Selina started fiddling with the hem of the skirt above her left knee, turning the material in and out.

 

_10 Minutes to her first State of The Union Address._

“Is Catherine in her seat?” Selina wondered.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Gary confirmed.

“Is she dressed appropriately?”

“She is!” Gary cooed. “Not in red, per your instructions. Though green is not right for her---“

“We are running out of time.” Ben jumped in.

“Shut up, Ben.” Selina snarled.

Below the conference table, Selina’s hand went back to drumming her fingers on her left knee. _One, two, three. One, two, three._

A warm hand covered hers, effectively stopping the neurotic fidgeting.

Selina’s eyes darted to his face, but Kent was attentively listening to Dan, who continued to rattle on about the merits of revaluating tax margins or something.

Minutes ticked by, his hand remained on top of hers, while he simply carried on with the discussion. Selina took in a deep breath.

 

_5 Minutes to her first State of The Union Address._

“Madam President, this is it.” Ben prompted.

Selina exhaled, she hated to capitulate.                    

“Cut the military spending section. This time we will have to let the wookie win.” Selina muttered.

In her peripheral vision, Selina saw one corner of his mouth quirk up, Kent ran his thumb over her knuckles before letting her hand go. Selina got to her feet, followed by the rest of the team.

 

_“Mr Speaker... The President of the United States.”_

 

_-TBC-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and reviewing :)


	4. The Problem Is All Inside Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selina Meyer just went in there and slayed foreign policy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more episode left of this awesome season. I am so sad I could just take off and join a Spanish-Speaking biker gang :(

The trip home from Ottawa seemed to extend endlessly.

Selina began to question the thing about Air Force One being one of the fastest jets in the world.

She propped her stocking clad feet up on the seat across from her, taking a long drag from a cigarette she had bummed off one of her secret service agents.

Selina actively ignored Gary’s condemning stare.

Canada freaked the fuck out of Selina. It was freakishly clean. It smelled fresh and flowery everywhere. Canadian politicians were polite and down to earth. Canadian normals were decent and healthy looking.

It got so weird, so much so that Selina missed Ben and his politically incorrect jokes.

For three days, she has been stranded miles away on her first international trip, only Gary was allowed to make the trip.

In hindsight, leaving her entire team behind was a terrible idea, despite how badly they’d screwed up Selina’s first State of the Union.

The news cycle was dominated for days by speculations as to why the administration’s senior staff were not part of this historical visit, rather than details of the trip itself and the good work Selina did with her Canadian counterpart.

It also leaked to the press somehow that Selina had originally wanted to visit Brazil, but was otherwise pressured into making Canada her first international destination.

As Selina’s anger began to fade, restlessness took over.

She regarded the cabin TV in dismay. Torn between the urge to scream in frustration or laugh hysterically.

“Gary, turn this shit off, I’ve heard enough.” Selina watched her bag man leap to his feet to turn the TV off.

In the first 8 minutes of his Fox News interview, O’Brien managed to insult Latinos, Muslims and Native Americans. He claimed that Selina was using the ‘woman card’, whatever the fuck that was.

Selina huffed and returned her attention to the file she was reading.

On her way to the top of the political ladder, Selina learned to grow a thick skin and a calculating political mind.

And since O’Brien was going to alienate every voter who was not a rich, white, straight male. Selina might as well swoop in and win those left behind.

First, however, it was time to mend fences with her team.

“I am going to make some calls.” Selina told Gary, before shutting the door to her private cabin.

_Please hold for Air Force One._

“Miss me?” Selina’s first call went out to Ben.

She couldn’t truly stay mad at her chief of staff. Ben was Selina’s oldest friend in the administration, her drinking buddy and trusted ally since Hayes’ dreadful days.

They agreed to assemble the team, and make a show of support by meeting her at Andrews.

_Please hold for Air Force One._

“Ames, get your ass back to DC.”

Selina’s second call was to her campaign manager.

The president’s idea of getting back at Amy was sending the younger woman on the road with Dan, knowing the chronic sexual frustration between these two would be punishment enough.

“We need to get this campaign back on track.” Selina ordered.

Selina took a deep breath. She placed one additional call to the White House.

_Please hold for Air Force One._

“Hello.” His gravelly tone caused an uninvited flutter in her stomach.

“What are you wearing?” She asked Kent cheekily.

Selina tried to break the ice that’s been building between them since the night of the State of the Union.

She recalled yelling and throwing him out when he'd showed up at the residence that very evening.

The week that followed, it was strictly business between the two of them, no arguments, no banter and definitely no hanky-panky.

Over the phone, Selina could hear the shuffling chairs, _‘Would you excuse me while I take this?’_ Kent mumbled to someone in his office, _‘Thank you, Leigh.’_

Jesus. That Leigh again. Selina’s temper flared.

“Got nothing better to do than fraternizing with the young crowd of the West Wing?” Selina hissed.

He was rendered speechless for a few seconds by her abrupt jump from flirtatious to reprimanding. “What can I do for you, Madam President?” Kent’s tone was timid.

No longer in the mood for jokes. Selina shifted gears.

“The Canadians have taken in butt loads of refugees, they’re being pretty smug about it,” Selina elaborated, “I want to introduce a bill that will grant asylum for a bunch of poor ass refugees as well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It will give me some international street cred before the G9 thing. Might also win us the progressive vote.”

“G8.”

“That’s what I said." She snapped. "Anyways, it might kill my mother to know I have single-handedly let this many _aliens_ through the door. Hopefully, literally kill her.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kent repeated, “Anything else, Madam President?” His voice was clipped and professional. Selina felt a tiny twinge of guilt.

_What was wrong with her?_

“No, see you later.”

Selina sulked and lit another Cigarette.

 

****

 

It was a warm evening in DC when Air Force One touched down at Andrews.

Ben greeted her with an awkward half hug. Camera shutters snapped, capturing the staged moment. Selina wrinkled her nose at the smell of alcohol. Jesus. It wasn’t even six in the evening yet.

Amy smiled tightly, “Welcome back, ma’am.”

“Ma’am, you have a security briefing at ten this evening, a scheduled call with Japan at ten thirty, also, The Dow is sixty points down.” Sue concisely updated her.

“Where’s everyone else?” Selina looked around, waving to the press with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

_Where was he?_

“Everyone else?” Ben’s eyes shifted from Amy, to Sue, to Mike and Dan.

“Catherine.” Selina dodged.

“She has midterms ma’am.” Gary reminded her. “She will be back for the Israeli state dinner.”

“Oh, and Kent went home. Didn’t feel like joining us.” Ben remembered, “you probably should fire him, ma’am.”

She probably should.

No one gave Selina Meyer the cold shoulder.

She squared her shoulders and walked towards the motorcade. She had one more question however.

"Did America always smell this fucking awful?"

 

****

 

“Now, I have got to go to the toilet, so I hope that can answer anybody else's questions.”

Christ. Every single person in the building seemed to want something from her. She was _not_ hiding in the bathroom.

Moments later, Selina poked her head out of the office door, making sure Gary was gone. His freaking neurosis got on her nerves a little too much today.

What greeted her instead was Kent and his little blonde friend, as they poured over the GDP figures, which the girl had brought in earlier. The two stood a little too close together, while Kent explained something in hushed tones.

Selina felt her hackles rise, she turned towards the reception area where her eyes met with Sue’s. The younger woman wore a matching scowl.

Sue used to be with him, she had every right to disapprove. _What was Selina’s excuse?_

Well, the oval office wasn’t some fucking local bar and grill, they could go cozy up elsewhere.

Selina bared her teeth.

“Don't you have a job to do, Elaine?” Selina spat.

“It’s Leigh, Ma’am.” The girl’s voice was wobbly, but she was dumb enough to correct her.

“No, it’s not.” Selina glowered. "Get the fuck outta here."

She turned her glare to Kent.

“We are back in the Roosevelt room in ten.” Selina took off down the hallway, secret service in toe. Kent clutched his files and followed.

“That was uncalled for,” Kent mumbled once he caught up to her, “Leigh is simply doing her job.”

“Her job is to wander the White House in search of a sugar daddy?” Selina stopped walking. She turned to Kent and placed her hands on her hips.

“She’s here to learn about policy making. It’s my job to teach her.” Kent waved a hand in the air. “I am not interested in her in any other capacity.” He added in a lower voice.

“Whatever, I don’t give a frozen fuck who or what you do.” She poked his chest, ignoring the pinched look he sported.

“Then why are you scolding me, in the middle of the hallway, for the entire staff to hear.”

Alarmed, Selina looked around to notice a few random staffers watching them curiously. She glared, and they scurried out of sight.

“It seems to me, ma’am, that I am the only member of your team still condemned to the dog house.” His voice was low and sombre.

“It’s not---“

“Madam President,” Gary materialized behind her, “We have the Native American art samples for you.”

Selina caught sight of Kent retreating down the hallway, effectively putting an end to their argument.

She turned to Gary with a deceptively sweet smile.

“Would be a shame if I got one of these tribal folks to put a curse on someone for me. Huh?”

 

****

 

_“Let me see the photo face that you and Kent were working on.”_

She watched Catherine flinch away from the curling iron for the tenth time.

Selina coached her daughter, trying to remain calm while the kid learned how to fucking smile. A mental image of a blobfish kept swimming through Selina’s head.

“I heard you were screaming at Kent outside The Oval earlier,” Catherine inquired, “Is it because he polled my likeability?” She grimaced.

Christ. When did her every move become material for gossip?

“Honey, I will make sure he is properly disciplined.” Selina lied, “He will never do it again.” she’d ordered him to poll again after ‘changing the Catharine Meyer narrative’ as he dubbed it.

“No, mom. It’s fine.” Catherine assured.

“It is?”

“I know I may not be the most likeable person out there, but I am willing to change this, so I can help you win the election.”

Selina blinked. She loved her daughter fiercely. Despite the child’s sheltered-life naivety, or her fragile personality.

Despite Selina’s failure to convey this love to Catherine.

Selina was consoled; Catherine probably did know.

Selina observed her daughter in the mirror, Catherine was a beautiful girl. Not even the hunched posture or chronic skittish look could diminish that. She just needed to be less… Catherine.

Her gaze shifted to her own reflection. Selina’s hair was beginning to grow a little longer. The bags under her eyes didn’t look so bad in this light. She didn’t hate what she saw.

Her body was perfectly maintained through a daily workout routine at the White House gym, in addition to her rather impressive willpower in the face of Gary’s exceptional baking skills.

Also, a little help from her best friend; Spanx.

She was still just as attractive today as she’d been twenty years ago. Not girly and innocent like Catherine. She had a sophisticated, experienced beauty, worthy of the most powerful woman in the world. And it went beyond the physical appearance.

Just this morning, Selina brokered a historic Middle East peace deal.

Selina Meyer just went in there and slayed foreign policy.

As for the afternoon, Selina had spent it taking phone calls from world leaders, meeting with some brave veterans, and signing a bunch of bills into law.

She was not only the best, but also the fucking first female president.

Little girls looked up to her, young women wanted to be her.

She rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness. Selina’s schedule had no opening for a non-existent competition, with a twenty year old intern, for the attention of some random guy Selina was currently sleeping with.

A little guilty voice in her head reminded Selina; Kent was _not_ just some random guy. She scoffed and Catherine turned to her in confusion.

“You are likeable, honey. I like ya.” Selina smiled at her daughter, belatedly. “Just try and copy me, charming the normals is a science, even you could learn it.”

“Funny, that’s exactly what Kent said.” Catherine eyed her mother sceptically.

Selina didn’t expect her to catch the little borrowed analogy.

“He said I could learn to be just as charming as you,” Catherine continued, “that you have the ability to make people so enamoured, they always do your bidding.”

Selina was caught off guard.  _Kent said what?_

Catherine carried on obliviously, “I’m not even gonna mention the part where he tried to pat my shoulder.” Catherine rolled her eyes, “I don’t think he’s touched another human in years.”

He did touch other humans, he was pretty good at it too. but Catherine didn’t need to know that.

She didn't need to know about how skillful he was when it came to driving Selina crazy, nor how talented his stupid mouth is. Certainly not about his surprising roughness when the mood was just right, nor how commanding he got.

Jesus. Selina needed to make up with him soon before she lost her mind to sexual frustration.

She returned her attention to Catherine who was now asking the stylist for an updo.

The blobfish popped back into Selina’s mind.

“Nope. You’ll wear a high bun over my fucking dead body.”

 

****

 

_“You know, in a relationship... It's just good to clear the air, from time to time.”_

With Gary’s words resounding in her head, Selina detoured towards the West Wing, instead of the East room.

She needed to make a short stop before returning to her guests.

Thankfully, the lights were on, in the shoe-box of an office, right next to the oval.

“Hey Gary, run along and make sure everything’s in order for the dinner. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied, excited as ever.

The door was open. Selina walked right in, cake in one hand, and her heels in the other.

“If you’re here to solicit help disposing of Gary’s body, I do not do that anymore.” Kent deadpanned as he got to his feet.

She rolled her eyes and waved him off, he sat back down.

Selina worried sitting might wrinkle her gown, she chose to perch on the corner of his desk instead, placing the cake between them.

The silence extended for a moment too long.

“Selina.” Kent finally looked up. Her eyes widened at the use of her given name, it was the first time. “I am not involved with Leigh Patterson.” Kent’s face was open, his eyes sincere as he held her gaze.

“Okay.” Selina nodded after a while.

“I am not that kind of man.”

She believed him, her gut told her Kent wasn’t a creep. And though Selina suspected the young intern had different ideas regarding Kent, that wasn’t Selina’s problem.

“Here try this,” Selina pushed the plate towards him. A peace offering.

Kent eyed the dessert warily.

“It’s not poisoned,” Selina made a show of taking a small bite. Kent watched her lick frosting off her lips, Selina felt heat rise to her face. “Here,” She shoved a forkful into his unsuspecting mouth.

He tried to draw back, but she was faster. Kent chewed slowly, before giving her a slight hint of a smile.

“How’s the dinner going?” He broke the charged silence.

“Bill’s speech got pencil fucked by POTUS.” She grinned mischievously. “Needed to add some good old Meyerism.”

He smiled slightly. Selina contemplated him carefully. It felt like she hasn’t really seen him in a while. He looked tired.

“You did well with Catherine.” Selina mentioned, “She looks almost human.”

“She is very proud of you ma’am.”

“Damn right she should be.”

“Catherine is smart, if a little too _compassionate_ ,” Kent spat the word, as if it was a dirty insult, “her issue is self-esteem rather than lack of a formal role around here.”

Anyone else, Selina would have torn them a new one.

But Kent wasn’t being a jerk, nor was he judging her. He was guilelessly analysing the issue in order to find a solution. He tried to understand Catherine in order to recreate the First Daughter’s public image.

“She’s the child of an ugly divorce.” Selina looked down at her hands, “Andrew started sleeping around once I got pregnant with Catherine. I recall a particular intern, blonde, massive tits.”

Selina watched him wince. “I am sorry.” He mumbled, merely being polite, she guessed.

“She had to survive decades of a philandering jerk for a father, and well… me.” Selina shrugged.

Selina glanced at the clock, she really needed to go.

“Regardless, if anyone could salvage something in there, it’s you.” She grinned at his startled expression, “You two speak the same nerd language.”

Selina slid off his desk and smoothed the long dress back down, placing her shoes on the floor.

He stood up as well, extending a hand to support her. She didn’t immediately retrieve her hand once she’d climbed back into her heels.

“How do I look?” Selina didn’t see any mirrors in his office.

His eyes slowly took in the red strapless gown, the carefully mussed hair, and the expanse of her bare shoulders. She was almost breathless by the time their eyes met. He replied genuinely.

“Absolutely prepossessing, Madam President.”

 

-TBC-


	5. At The Risk of Being Crude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easter sucked. Two different toddlers threw up on her, and this one kid, this very mean kid, wouldn’t believe that she was the actual president of The United States.

Waves of pink, white and fuchsia.

DC’s renowned Cherry blossoms swayed in the early evening breeze.

Selina wished she could roll down her window, to breathe in the fresh smell of spring.

She used to love spring as a child. She loved experiencing spring here in DC.

But like most things in her life these days, it was either against security protocol, or inappropriate. Or both.

As the motorcade sped down an intersection, almost at the White House, The Capitol building loomed beyond the trees, like the ominous monstrosity that it was.

Selina turned from the tinted window, extending her hand to Gary. Again.

He frowned, but squeezed more Purell into her open palm.

Selina rubbed her hands together and turned to Catherine. The First Daughter asked a question several minutes ago.

“I dunno sweetie. Jason could be the one, he could also be a child molester.”

“Mom!” Catherine shrieked, “My boyfriend is not a molester!”

Selina glanced at Amy who pretended to be busy on her Blackberry.

“Definite pervert vibe there,” Amy murmured without looking up.

It was the Thursday before Easter.

They were finished with some photo session at a local soup kitchen in Georgetown, where they’d fed some creepy looking homeless guys, shook hands with the normals of DC, and posed for photos.

Catherine was still working her public image, while Selina tried to push some campaigning into her otherwise utterly fucked up schedule.

“Mom, just because you’ve been single since forever, doesn’t mean you get to project your loneliness onto my relationship.”

Selina failed to refute Catherine’s accusation. She was not in a relationship, nevertheless, Selina didn’t feel single.

There was Kent, and he was a lot of things, if not a typical partner.

While their arrangement did not include date nights, or long walks under the moonlight - _Thankfully, she fucking hated walking_ \- Selina acknowledged that Kent was an integral part of her life.

It was an odd experience; she got to see him basically every day, they were a great team during the day. They shared ideas and decisions, they also had regular meals and travelled together. They also had sex. Mind blowing, frequent sex.

She enjoyed what little time they had together, just them, every other night. She didn’t mind listening to little stories about his family, his former jobs, his cat. In fact, she kinda liked it.

Selina also opened up occasionally and shared things; about her childhood, her college years, and her career in politics.

Catherine was wrong, Selina was far from lonely.

Still, Selina’s job was fucking hard, at times, it was too much to endure. So why couldn’t she have this one thing, this little break from reality?

Well, she knew exactly why.

Selina believed beyond a doubt that Jason was using Catherine to get closer to the Meyer Administration, and yet, Catherine’s current relationship was still healthier than Selina’s.

Selina’s was nothing but a scandal waiting to happen.

She fucking loathed the cloud that constantly hung over her head.

Selina worried her lower lip between her teeth. Was she losing grip on the reality of her relationship with Kent?

But the actual relationship part was just sex. _Right?_ The rest was just happenstance.

At least she didn’t have to worry about him harbouring any similar doubts. Selina would know if Kent was feeling _more_ than he was supposed to.

For her part, Selina had the ability to keep the lines from blurring, and that was one thing she’s gonna have to focus on. Her mind was set.

“Sorry mom, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Catherine muttered anxiously.

“No honey, it’s fine.” Selina snapped out of her trance, “Of course, I don’t mind having some well hung young thing to keep me warm at night.” She enjoyed Catherine’s scandalized look.

“Ew!”

“But no worries, sweetie. Mommy's got one of those Japanese magical vibrators a couple of years ago,” Selina grinned mischievously, “You wouldn’t believe the size of that thing. It’s keeping mommy very happy.”

“Oh my God! Gross!” Catherine squeaked. Amy looked aghast. Gary shifted uncomfortably in her peripheral vision. 

Selina turned her face to the window, biting her lips to keep from laughing.

Two birds. One stone.

The motorcade was finally crossing the East Gate.

She didn’t have to finish this conversation anymore. She was home.

 

****

 

“Lucy, I’m home.”

Selina shut the door to the residence, for the second time this very same evening.

Kent glanced up from his computer screen with a frown, clearly not a Lucille Ball fan.

Selina was called back to the situation room, she’d asked Kent to stay put while she rushed to attend to some developing situation.

More guns. More dead kids. Selina was so fucking exhausted, in every sense of the word.

Kent was waiting where she’d left him, as promised.

Selina was thankful for his presence. The residence always seemed bleak and cold after days like this one.

Kent had removed his jacket and tie. He sat by the window watching something on his laptop.

“You better not be watching porn on the White House Wi-Fi network.” Selina toed off her heels.

“Not currently.” He deadpanned.

She walked over and sat on the arm of his chair. He slid one arm around her waist, and angled the screen a bit so she could watch as well.

The screen was split between a female speaker, with the NASA logo behind her, the other half was fuzzy footage of some plain looking planet.

“Is this more from the Mars curious thingy?”

“Curiosity." He automatically corrected, "This is Dawn, a NASA probe, orbiting the dwarf planet Ceres, for the first time.”

“Did we just blow a buttload of money on another giant dildo?”

“The mission is going perfectly well. In fact, we are witnessing a historic moment. Huge scientific breakthrough.”

“Then why you’re watching? Are we supposed to make a statement?”

“No. No, this is... a personal interest of mine.” He was absolutely blushing. “I enjoy astronomy.”

“Nerd.” She grinned and slid onto his lap. He pulled her closer against him, Selina rested her head on his shoulder and they watched the coverage together.

“Nerd is no longer considered derogatory. It’s now a main stream culture that embraces thousands of subjects and millions of enthusiasts.”

“And you’re the nerdiest of them all.” Selina taunted, Kent pinched her ass.

“Ow!” She squeaked and slapped his shoulder. Kent grasped her hand in his and she settled back down against his chest.

“Did you want to be an astronaut and stuff?” Selina asked, her eyes on their entwined hands.

“I did.” He nodded, “My father got me a telescope when I was six. I studied the constellations every night.”

“Why not apply for the space program after college?” Selina turned her palm in his, observing the contrast in their size and texture. “Or the Air Force?”

“Back then I had my mother and sister to look after. I had student loans.” He shrugged, “It made more sense to use my skills where I could make actual money.”

Selina wrapped her fingers around his. She had no idea what it felt like to abandon a dream because you couldn’t afford it. Her own tuition at Smith was paid for, upfront, from her trust fund.

“What about you?”

“I’ve only ever wanted to be president.” Selina replied firmly.

“Well done.” He kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes and leaned into him once more.

Peaceful silence surrounded them. The darkness which permeated her day was beginning to fade.

Until guilt and panic took over.

The goddamn lines were blurring once again.

Selina stiffened, but nevertheless, steeled her resolve.

“Get up! This isn’t a fucking date.” Selina slid off his lap and stomped down to the bedroom, missing his wounded look, “let’s fuck, so you can be on your way.”

She was in control. She was powerful.

_She almost believed her own lies too._

 

_****_

 

“We call them the Expendabelles.”

“That’s not funny, boys.” Selina scolded Dan and Ben.

The first White House to be run by a female president, one would expect less misogyny to go around.

Selina walked back into her office, wondering who’s the unlucky girl who would soon be packing her crushed hopes and dreams in a cardboard box, heading back home to some insignificant life, in some insignificant town, with a sad tale of being stabbed in the back, by one of the most controversial administrations to inhabit the White House.

A certain face popped into her head. Selina stopped and turned.

“Dan, hold on. I have someone in mind,” Selina brought herself to her full height. “The blonde intern from communications. Elaine.”

She remembered the girl’s name just fine; Leigh fucking Patterson.

Selina avoided looking _him_ in the eye. Keeping her attention on Ben and Dan instead.

“Her name is Leigh, and she is a fine staffer.” He predictably chimed in, “Great on close reading and policy analysis. I see splashes of myself in her.”

Selina gritted her teeth, _of course he did._

Well, not anymore.

“Sue!” She called out to her executive secretary.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you go make sure that girl turns in her staff ID?”

Selina treated the younger woman to this opportunity to gloat, since Selina herself couldn’t do it.

Sue smiled slightly, nodding her head and sparing Kent a brief glare. “Gladly, Madam President.”

Selina feared the day when Sue would turn against them.

Cautiously, Selina looked up to see him regarding her with a cold, penetrating look.

_A vicious cunt_.

She knew exactly what people called her behind her back. She didn’t mind it, because she always got what she wanted.

But not him, she saw herself _his_ eyes, and she hated how it made her feel.

More than anything, she hated that she gave a damn.

Selina flinched and looked away.

 

****

 

Wardrobe fittings were like Christmas in June for Gary.

Or technically April.

He handed her a pair of heels. Nude in colour, to match the blue dress she was trying on.

However, Selina wasn’t in the right headspace for this.

It was the Thursday after Easter, and her Easter sucked.

Easter got fucked in the asshole by the data leak scandal.

On top of everything else, Selina carried the added guilt of ruining a child’s life, outing the girl as HIV positive, in a town so ignorant, they had no idea how HIV worked to begin with.

Additionally, two different toddlers threw up on her, and this one kid, this very mean kid, wouldn’t believe that she was the actual president of The United States.

Then there was Kent. He hasn’t talked to her in three days, claiming he needed time to put some things in perspective.

A knock at the door startled Gary into dropping the dress he was clutching.

“Ma’am, may we come in?” _Speak of the devil._ She felt that silly clench in her gut. _Again_.

“We are busy.” The bag man sneered at the two figures in the doorway.

“Come on in boys." Selina ignored Gary’s wounded look. "Could use some male feedback in here.”

Kent remained standing by the bookcase, while Ben unceremoniously took a seat on the couch.

“I wasn’t aware of any scheduled events tonight.” Ben groaned, eyeballing her. “You look fancy.”

Selina eyed herself in the mirror critically. She wasn’t a huge fan of maxi gowns. She wasn’t tall enough to pull them off, not even in heels.

“The president is very busy, she picks outfits for her public appearances in advance.” Gary gloated, he knew information the others didn’t, “Dress fittings, every last Thursday of the month.”

“Gary could help you figure out your wardrobe.” Selina looked slyly at Ben. “So you don’t have to look like you’ve been in a bar fight every morning.”

“I think I’ve had this same pair of underwear on for three days.” Ben looked contemplative for a moment. Selina and Kent eyed him with a matching looks of repulsion.

“So boys, what brings you down here?”

“We’re here with updates.” Kent finally spoke up, slowly lifting his eyes from her bodice-clad rack. Selina smirked. Well, she is definitely keeping this dress.

“Dan?” Selina prompted, while Gary presented the next few choices of shoes.

“He’s not an issue yet, but the fucker is a loose cannon, he knows where most of the bodies are buried.” Ben mumbled.

“I should’ve fired _you_ , as the original plan went” Selina looked pointedly at him, “you would have been thankful for the chance to finally meet your kids.”

“True, though you could’ve also fired him.” Ben inclined his head towards Kent, “He’s your data guy after all.”

Selina scowled. A year ago, she would’ve fired Kent Davison without hesitation. Today though, the idea of not having him around was too fucking upsetting. Jesus.

“Nah. I need you both here, it’s too damn entertaining watching you lovebirds bicker like an old married couple.” Selina deflected.

“Well, we’re taking a spousal break,” Ben scratched his belly, “Kent is gonna join Amy on the campaign trail, now that Egan is gone.”

Selina’s eyes widened, “For how long?”

“Two weeks,” Kent replied, he held her eyes, “I won’t make the Middle East trip.”

It made sense. He should focus on the campaign while Ben accompanies her overseas.

Still, it meant not seeing him for almost a month.

Selina sat down, ignoring Gary’s aghast look.

The ball gown worth a buttload of money was wrinkled beyond repair.

“Fine.” Selina muttered. “Amy will be relieved we didn’t stick her with Bill.”

Both men got up to leave, when Kent turned, catching her eyes.

“There’s no scientific evidence supporting this notion, but it’s said that the universe has a way of balancing itself out.” Kent folded his arms across his chest, “When Families First is signed into law, we will persevere. Until then, we do what we do to keep our heads above water.”

“Inspiring words, Confucius.” Ben mocked.

She held Kent’s gaze, accepting his olive branch.

They did what they did to keep their heads above water.

The two of them will be fine.

“How about a cookie, ma’am?” Gary asked after the two were gone.

He regarded her with an understanding she didn’t dare look too deeply into.

“Chocolate chip?” Selina wondered hopefully.

“Of course!”

She was done here, time to get back to work.

“I will take the two cocktail dresses, burn everything else down.”

 

-TBC-


	6. The Answer is Easy if You Take it Logically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is this one of your eyes of the Sauron ploys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the few lovely people still reading this fic, my apologies for abandoning it this long! I am the absolute worst.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little chapter.

"You look like the cabin depressurized and you fell into a coma or something.”

Selina eyed her chief of staff wearily. He hasn’t looked well for a while.

How many heart attacks did Ben have under his belt? Three? Four?

“I'm fine.” Ben mumbled, taking a seat in Selina’s private quarters on Air Force One.

Despite the late hour, the jet lag, and twelve exhausting days of continent hopping, Selina was wide awake.

So much was on her mind, following the resounding success of her Middle East tour. They were finally flying home from Tehran, and Selina’s adrenaline was not ready to let her rest, not just yet.

“I told Mike to call the Nobel Peace Prize people.” Selina preened, “I have earned my fucking crown.”

“They no longer give that shit to presidents,” Ben groaned, “it’s all about those kids from Egypt or the Yemen getting electrocuted in the nutsack by their governments for tweeting shit.”

“Perhaps I would garner more respect if I tortured millennials.” 

“As a father of one, I absolutely approve.” Ben mumbled, falling asleep abruptly.

“Ben!” Selina poked him with the toe of her slipper. 

“I am awake.” He groaned.

“Speaking of millennials,” Selina began, “wasn’t the best idea to send Doyle to be our face with the youth of the LGBT community.” 

“Shouldn’t have fired Egan.” Ben frowned, “or you know, could’ve sent Kent instead, he’s the West Wing’s favourite gay crush.”

“Nah, Kent’s the very opposite of gay.” Selina toyed with her necklace, a small smile pulling up the corner of her mouth.

“You sound so sure.” Ben eyed her wearily. “You’re not sleeping with him, are ya?” 

“What if I am?” Selina asked surreptitiously, risking her most cherished secret. She still fished for information, since Ben was too stoned, “For all you know, I could be fucking him every chance I got.”

Ben looked green for a moment, the idea, apparently, too appaling for him to visualize.

“No, you can’t stand him, or his robodick,” Ben finally shook his head, “also, everyone knows you’re fucking a secret service guy, or like a bunch of them.”

“Jesus Ben. Are you out of your mind!” Selina sat up, “How much Ambien did you take?”

A secret  service agent! Where the fuck did that come from? Did everyone really think so?

“It’s cool. Not judging.” Ben waved her concerns off, “Your mood has been on the up and up those past few months, he must have a massive schlong.”

“Listen carefully, you big dummy. I am  _ not  _ fucking an agent, or anyone else for that matter.” Selina sneered, “I would slap the fuck out of you, but you’re too drugged out, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ben nodded, dozing off again.

She watched him snore, his head jerking violently as Air Force One maneuvered some turbulence. 

Selina wasn’t  _ that  _ tacky, she would never do one of her guards.

Still, so much for the secrecy and sneaking around. 

She couldn’t help it if her time with Kent, occasionally put a smile on her face.

She was human for fuck’s sake.

Ben’s mouth fell open and his head lolled back in a particularly odd angle. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

Selina took out her phone, snapping a couple of photos of the unconscious slob.

She opened the messaging app, hitting send. Selina smiled mischievously. 

Kent will _definitely_ find these amusing.

 

****

 

She kicked the door shut behind them. 

The two stumbled into the residence. Finally, alone. Together.

Selina tugged his jacket and tie off without breaking their kiss.

Kent sat on the bed, bringing Selina on top of him. Her knee accidentally colliding with his ribs. Kent groaned.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Selina was too horny to do gentle right now.

Kent’s only reply was to bite her neck, securing her legs around his waist. Careful not to leave any marks, despite the primal temptation to do so.

Selina whimpered. She felt his touch so deep within her. She was so full. So close. 

She threw her head back, “Jesus fucking Christ. I missed you.” She gasped.

They both froze. 

Selina could hear her own heartbeat, loud and fast in the silence of her bedroom.

Selina lowered her head and mumbled quietly, “You know what I meant.” she pressed her face into his neck.

Kent rolled on top of her, “Don’t remember telling you to stop moving.” he grumbled.

Moments later, Selina was trying to catch her breath. Kent kissed her cheek and sprawled out next to her.

“This was good.” Selina declared.

“Better than good.” Kent agreed.

“Worth the weeks of celibacy.” Selina yawned.

“Are you telling me you did not--” Kent trailed off.

“Nope.” Selina grinned, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

“Not even once?” He regarded her skeptically.

“A whole month. Queen of my castle.” Selina confirmed.

“Twenty six days,” Kent automatically corrected, but his lips curled upwards. He turned to face her. “So, how was the Middle East?”

“Sleazy politicians, ass kissers, and a Starbucks on every street corner.” Selina shrugged one bare shoulder. “Just like home.”

He rearranged their limbs so she was a bit closer, resting her head on his chest.

“You did well.” Kent started, “The latest polling figures--” he didn’t get the chance to finish.

“Catherine is mad at me.” Selina whispered, “I can’t let her marry this creep.”

“She appeared excited when she told me the news.” 

“She can’t just go off and say yes to the first guy that proposes.” Selina ranted, “He is using her to get ahead. To get to me.”

Kent pondered his next words for a second. “A White House wedding would give your numbers a serious haul.” He elaborated, “not to mention promoting Families First.”

Selina smacked his bare chest. “I am not using my only offspring for a couple of polling points!”

“Not even double digits?” His eyes twinkled.

“Oh.” Selina stroked the spot she’d just slapped. “I guess I should talk to her. Patch things up.”

“You should,” He hesitated a heartbeat before murmuring, “Perhaps, you should also talk to Amy. She’s not been dealing well since Egan was disposed of. She’s got one foot out the door.”

“Nah, not Amy, she’s been with me since Maryland,” Selina yawned again, “she is almost as loyal as Gary.”

“She doesn’t know about this.” Kent waved a hand between them, almost apprehensively. “Does she?”

“Jesus. No.” Selina blinked and raised her head, looking him straight in the eye. “Why the fuck would I tell her?”

“No reason. Just wondering.” He shrugged, looking away.

She didn’t want to interpret the shadow of emotion that crossed his features.

It almost looked like defeat.

“Ben is convinced I’m sleeping with a secret service agent,” she laughed humorlessly. “Or was it multiple agents, he wasn’t very elaborate.”

“Mhmm.” Kent nodded.

“You knew?” Selina’s eyes widened.

“I know everything.” Kent scoffed.

“No, you don--- Wait a fucking minute!” Selina exclaimed, “You started this rumor yourself!”

Kent kept his eyes closed, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Is this one of your ‘eyes of the Sauron’ ploys?” Selina jabbed his side none too gently.

“Eye of Sauron.” He corrected, “there’s only one dark lord, he needs no determiner.”

She settled back down, resting her head on his shoulder once more. The pull of slumber too strong to be resisted.

“Shut up and go to sleep, nerd.” Selina grumbled. “I will deal with you in the morning.”

She was drifting off, when Kent spoke up again.

“Selina?”

She mumbled incoherently in response.

“I missed you too.”

She was already asleep.

 

****

 

“Thank you for coming back, Catherine.”

Selina got up from her desk, crossing the oval to greet her kid.

“Yeah, it’s not like I had a choice,” Catherine scowled, “Secret Service pulled me out of Contemporary Puppetry class.”

Selina opened her mouth and closed it several times, “I am paying for that?” 

“I will just go.” Catherine turned to leave.

“No, wait.” Selina shook her head, “I just wanted to say… you could marry Jason, if that’s what you want.”

“Mom, I  _ am  _ marrying Jason. I don’t need your permission .” Catherine wrapped her arms across her body.

“I know,” Selina patted the couch next to her, “I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“I am not changing my mind.” Catherine huffed, but took a seat on the couch next to her mother.

“Honey, listen to me. We are the first family, the most influential women in this whole fucking country.”

Selina tentatively touched Catherine’s hand, imploring her daughter to listen.

Catherine looked away, perpetually uncomfortable with human contact.

“Every person we come across, will at one point stop and consider; how could we be of use to them.”

“For fuck’s sake mom, Jason’s not using me!” Catherine exclaimed, “he loves me.”

“It’s not enough. You have no idea how many guys have been ‘ _ in love _ with me’ since I was first elected to the Senate.” Selina air quoted.

“Well, I’m not you, mom.” Catherine scoffed, petulantly.

“No, you’re definitely not,” Selina sighed at her daughter’s naivety.

Muffled sounds from the West Wing filtered through the silence extending between mother and daughter.

“Catherine, you want to spend the rest of your life with someone who not only says they love you, but also acts like it.” Selina urged, “You choose the person who’s got your back.”

“How can you tell, mom?” Catherine rolled her eyes.

“Well, for one he respects your boundaries, he keeps your secrets, and he doesn’t judge you for getting drunk when things get too much.”

Selina watched her daughter’s defiant look change into one of empathy.

“He will be the only man not intimidated by your achievements, he will root for you to succeed, and tell you when you’re being a dick.” Selina sighed and touched her blouse collar.

The first daughter gulped, ill-equipped to deal with her mother’s rarely seen candor.

“You will want him near when you’ve had a shitty day.” Selina finished, “You will physically miss him when you’re apart. That’s how you can tell.”

“Mom, I’m sorry.” Catherine sniffled at last, “I’m sure dad felt the same way about you when you were together…” Catherine trailed off, “you  _ are  _ talking about dad, right?”

Selina’s startled expression earned an inquiring look from her daughter.

“Yeah. Yes, of course. Your dad. Yes” Selina stammered, “But let’s change the subject.”

“What?” Catherine blinked, confused.

Selina, however, needed an answer for one pressing question.

“Say, do you expect to tie the knot anytime before next November?”

 

****

 

“Catherine will welcome you to the stage on the closing night.”

Amy stood at the head of the table, running the final campaign meeting before the national convention.

They were gathered in the Roosevelt room, finalizing the details for Selina’s acceptance speech.

“The first daughter is the one who should introduce you on night three.” Karen divulged. She was such a great asset to the team.

“That is literally what I just said.” Amy gritted her teeth.

Selina discerned Amy’s hostility throughout this meeting. She chose to ignore it however. Focusing instead on the ugly painting of a skinny horse on top of  the fireplace.

“How about your mother? She is tiny, adorable and sympathetic. With her wheelchair and old person wisdom.” Bill suggested. “She should be one of the speakers.”

Selina glared at her director of communications. Has he always been this smarmy?

“Your mother should be involved, absolutely.” Karen chipped in.

Selina felt her hackles rise, she had no intention of letting mother anywhere near this campaign, come hell or high water. 

She searched her mind for a valid refutal. One which did not involve words such as witch, shrill or frigid.

“The mother is not well enough to handle such a huge event.” Kent’s voice carried from across the conference table, “we want this campaign to emphasize vigor.”

“The mother is too much of a risk, with her deteriorating health and all.” Karen echoed.

Amy pushed her chair back, silently slipping out of the room.

Selina however paid no attention to the absence of her campaign manager. 

Her eyes locked with Kent’s across the table. 

“But maybe---” Bill tried again.

“No.” Kent cut him off. “I believe the President will agree that this campaign has no place at the moment for the matriarch.”

Selina looked down at her hands. 

He has been listening. More importantly, he saw through her lifetime worth of baggage.

What was it that she told Catherine?

Right, someone who’s got your back.

Selina was braving uncharted territories.

Which one is it gonna be. Fight or flight?

She looked up and met his eyes.

“I am with Kent.”

  
**\--TBC--**


	7. You Just Make a New Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beyonce played in the background. Something about home and bravery and girl power.  
> “I am honored to accept your nomination for President of the United States of America.”

“No.”

Selina groaned into the phone.

The clock on the nightstand flashed a number, which could have been two in the morning. Without her glasses, Selina couldn’t be certain.

“Ma’am, there's a situation.” Ben sounded as exhausted as Selina felt.

“Man, can’t this wait until morning? I just fell asleep like an hour ago.”

“Terrorism never sleeps, ma’am.” Ben grumbled, “Suicide bombers at the Istanbul airport. Hundreds of victims.”

“How about from now on you only wake me up when the fuckers attack a country in our hemisphere?” Selina huffed.

“Turkey is in Europe, ma’am, I think” Ben mumbled. “Security briefing in thirty. See you in the conference room.”

Selina clicked the phone shut. Groaning out loud, she buried her face in the pillows.

Exhausted couldn’t even begin to describe how Selina felt.

She eventually sat up in bed, noticing the curtains slightly drawn, probably Gary’s doing. He wanted Selina to enjoy the view at night. 

But tonight, less than twenty hours away from her nomination, on the final night of the convention, Selina didn’t exactly have the time to stop and smell the roses. 

All the same, it was beautiful outside. The sky was clear, the city lights sparkled while the full moon reflected off the lake.

The hotel was smaller than Selina was used to, but it was located right outside the convention venue.

On the one hand, she was kept safely away from the shit-ton of protestors picketing the convention center, griping about a bunch of stuff. 

Her foreign policy. Her spending cuts. Her Families First bill. The list went on. 

Additionally, Selina was told at one point today, a group of men's rights advocates were among the protestors, claiming a female president was a threat to their liberties and God given rights. 

However, the group couldn't deal with the afternoon's humidity. They were gone before the motorcade reached town. 

All in all, Selina was happy to stay as far away from the wackos as humanly possible.

On the other hand, due to the size of the hotel, the senior staff couldn’t stay with her. Only Catherine and Jason were offered a suite, a couple of floors below the presidential penthouse.

Selina ran her hand across the empty side of her bed with a sigh.

It would be too risky to have Kent stay over, under these circumstances.

Not when all eyes were on Selina on the eve of her nomination.

Apprehension filled her.

She wanted this presidency so freaking bad she could almost taste it.

Selina did not however look forward to people calling her awful names, or blaming her for every shitty little thing that went wrong in their lives.

She also didn't enjoy being woken up in the middle of the night to deal with those ISIS assholes. It's been happening way too frequently as of late. Enough was fucking enough.

Six months into her interim presidency, Selina could count on one hand the good days she’d seen.

They were few and far between. And yet she was anxiously seeking four more years of this shit. Possibly even eight.

What if she couldn't do it? What if she crumbled under the pressure? 

Her phone went off again,  a message from Ben;  _ ‘Conference room. Team is here’ _

In the absence of Gary, she had no idea what to wear. Selina didn’t expect her security advisors to be offended by the flannel sleepwear and fuzzy slippers.

She’s probably not the first commander in chief to attend to an emergency in pajamas. At least she wasn’t into the habit of napping during late night briefings, like 43 was rumored to do.

Selina opened her door and two sleepy looking agents jumped to their feet. She wanted to scold them, but was too tired herself.

‘Hera on the move.’ One agent spoke into his sleeve.

Selina didn’t really care for that codename.

Hera was replaced by a younger woman. Consequently, she spent her days throwing shade at other goddesses. Not particularly Selina’s idea of fun.

However, Hera was still way better than poor catherine’s moniker; Hebe. A goddess who was often portrayed holding food items. 

Regardless, the day Selina’s elected, this name will have to go.

She'll have to ask Kent for some suggestions. 

A nerd like him would know about the hottest goddesses out there.

Selina definitely deserved the upgrade. 

 

****

 

“Go away.”

Selina yelled at whoever had the audacity to knock at her door.

She wanted to be left alone for just a few minutes. 

Was that too much to ask, after the day she’d had?

The team was on a 30 minute break, as they waited for her new potential running mate to join them.

Doyle was out. James was in.

Amy too, was fucking out.

Selina kept playing the words of the departed campaign manager in her head.

_ ‘The fact that you are a woman means we will have no more women presidents. because we tried one and she fucking sucked.’ _

The door opened, someone slipped in, despite Selina’s protest.

Selina stood in the middle of the room,  gritting her teeth, she turned to glare at the intruder.

Of course, he would be the one to invade her solitude. 

“Oh, it’s you.” Selina deflated, “Come to gloat?”

Kent stepped closer. “Why would I do that?”

“You told me Amy was unhappy, you knew this was coming.”

He’d warned her, weeks ago. Selina refused to listen. 

Kent remained silent in the moments following Amy’s exit. 

When Selina asked Mike to go get Tom James, Kent eyed her with a peculiar look.

Like she’d hung the moon or some shit.

It freaked the living bejesus out of her.

Kent grasped her elbows, turning Selina around. He gently pushed her against the door.

“A nooner, huh?” Selina smiled suggestively, “Try not to mess up my hair too--”

“Shut up and listen to me,” Kent cut her off. “You are the fucking president of these fucking United States. You are flawed, but you are not defined by your flaws. You are capable, and you can win this.”

Selina opened her mouth and closed it a bunch of times. The vulgarity exceptionally uncharacteristic of him. 

His reverence an even bigger shock.

She knew he believed in her ability to win. It's why he chose to join her team. 

She also knew Kent considered her to be a skillful, charismatic politician. Furthermore, Selina obviously knew he was attracted to her.

His admiration however, took her by surprise.

“Amy’s wide-eyed approach to politics does not delineate you,” he continued, “ She knows nothing of the burden you bear. Of what struggle life in the public eye could be.” 

Selina looked down, not knowing what to say, “Your tie is really ugly.”

“You are going to ask Tom James to be your running mate. You will walk down to the convention floor. You will thank our party for nominating you,” he continued, ignoring her comment. “And then you are going to get elected president in November. It won’t be due to your gender, but because you are you, and you’re worthier than O’Brien.”

Selina was worthier, she was not a bigoted, racist, philandering drunk.

Screw Amy for failing to see that.

Selina blinked, stretching up to her tiptoes. She closed the the distance between them, kissing him slowly. Eyes closed and chest tightening with suffocating emotions, to the point where she could no longer breathe.

Selina rested her forehead against his, tentatively touching the tiny flag on his jacket. “Does your head still hurt?”

“Not anymore.” He leaned forward and kissed her one more time.

“I am the fucking president of the fucking United States.” Selina echoed his earlier words.

“You are.”

“I will win this thing.”

“Yes, you will.”

Selina nodded. Determined to go out and kick ass.

But first things first….

“Wanna fire Karen for me?”

Kent returned her smile.

“There’s nothing I would like more, Madame President.”

 

****

 

“Please join me in welcoming my mother, my hero and our first woman President. Selina Catherine Meyer.”

Catherine’s eyes were huge and wet.

Selina’s mind flashed back to a cold evening in the nineties, with Catherine tumbling off stage right outside the Maryland State House. Twice.

They’ve both come a long way since then. For the most part.

Catherine hugged her mother stiffly, and Selina clung on a moment too long. 

Selina wasn’t stalling. She just needed a moment.

Beyonce played in the background. Something about home and bravery and girl power.

This was it. Selina’s moment in history.

Catherine retreated to the side of the stage, holding hands with that leech, Jason.

Next to her, Gary was cheering wildly. Mike and his wife were there too. Ben looked less drunk than she’d ever seen him.

And then there was her new campaign manager, smiling genuinely. 

Selina caught his eyes for a heartbeat.

He’d changed his tie.

Selina grinned and turned to face the crowd.

...

“I am honored to accept your nomination for President of the United States of America.”

 

-TBC-


	8. Just Hop on the (Campaign) Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first presidential debate only a few weeks away: “Calling on O’Brien to exhibit self control, is like calling on a dog to stop licking its butthole.”

“Come on already.”

Selina banged her fist against the bathroom door.

“I need to pee. You’re taking forever.”

The door finally opened, revealing a freshly showered, shirtless Kent.

Selina took a moment to appreciate the view, before brushing past him.

They were still stuck in the midwest, campaigning to an inch of their lives.

A year ago, Selina was under the impression that campaigning, while holding the office of Vice President, was exhausting and time consuming. 

Today, she was running for president, 110 days away from the general elections, while also running the entire fucking country. It was Selina’s very own ninth circle of hell.

The Meyer-James campaign still had three more days out here, split between Illinois and Indiana, before they could fly back home to DC.

“Want me to step outside?” Kent watched Selina drop her underwear and sit down. He shuffled his feet uncertainly.

“Just gonna take a leak.” Selina rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to look so scandalized.”

“Fun fact; One out of four people suffer from Paruresis, or shy bladder syndrome. They won’t pee in the real or imaginary presence of others.” Kent declared, walking back to the large mirror. 

“First, your Tom James impression needs some work,” Selina grinned, “and second, these people are pussies.”

“It’s a real medical condition.” He picked up a comb and a large silver hair dryer.

“Is that my blow-dryer?” Selina  squinted, “Wait… You’re actually blow drying your hair?”

“I had to shower after a whole forty minutes of intercourse.” Kent replied matter of factly.

“You complaining?” She smirked.

“No, ma’am.” He ran his fingers through his hair, finishing the drying process.

Selina liked his hair, always have, way before they started sleeping together. 

She may have disliked him then, but she still admired his hair. Selina had no idea how much maintenance went into it.

She wondered why he chose to shower and dress in her hotel room, instead of his own. The answer was clearly her superior beauty products.

“You're going to see your mother, what's with all the grooming?” She walked over to the sink. 

He watched Selina dry her hands, “Well, I’ve been emailing with Kenny, my nephew--”

“Kenny?” She interrupted. Crossing the bathroom, she hopped up on the marble counter, dangling her feet.

“Short for Kent.” He smiled sheepishly, continuing, “Kenny let it slip that my family is throwing me an early  _ surprise  _ birthday party. I have to dress accordingly.”

“I had no idea it was your birthday.” Selina shrugged awkwardly. “Happy birthday.”

“It’s not. Not until August. However, since we’re already here in Illinois...” He trailed off and kept trimming his beard, avoiding her eyes, “Certainly Gary will bring it up eventually, as he often does regarding staffers’ birthdays.”

“Gary is always finding excuses to bake a cake.” A flicker of annoyance crossed her face at Kent’s habit of referring to himself as just another staffer.

“The earth orbiting the sun one more time is nothing to celebrate. Particularly at my age.” Kent scoffed, “I am merely accommodating mother’s whims.”

“As the President, I could declare an emergency. Get you out of it.” Selina suggested, swinging her legs back and forth. “Consider it an early birthday gift.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, ma’am. However, I have not seen my mother since Hughes was still in office.” Kent replied somberly. “I would like to use the time we have here in Cook County to visit her.”

Selina paused, she would rather fuck Jonah on top of the Resolute Desk than hang out with her own family. It baffled her that Kent was willingly spending an evening with his. 

She shouldn’t feel guilty about Kent’s situation though, he was as much of a workaholic as Selina herself was.

It didn’t cross Selina’s mind often, she didn’t exactly have time to contemplate what kind of lives her people led beyond the walls of the West Wing.

How was it going for Gary and his weird tight-knit relationship with his family? 

Or Ben and his children, and the many exes who were still around for unknown reasons? 

What about Sue and her… actually Selina had no idea what Sue did after hours, the woman was an absolute enigma. 

Mike was the only one with something resembling a normal family life, and that's saying something.

“What are they like.. Your family.” Selina inquired finally.

Kent blinked, before resuming to button up his shirt.

“Mother taught high school math. She still lives in our old home. Loves gardening. Hates politics.” 

“So do I.” Selina empathized. “Hate politics, that is.”

“My sister Kathleen is a surgical nurse. Her husband was a Navy officer, was killed in Afghanistan. Her two kids; Kenny and Sarah, are fifteen and eighteen.” Kent finished his windsor knot.

“So you are the only political nerd in the family.” Selina observed.

“Well, Sarah is planning on majoring in Poli–sci. She volunteers for you. Still hasn’t forgiven me for advising the Hughes campaign during the primaries, instead of yours.”

“Neither have I.”

He looked up, alarmed, catching her eyes in the mirror. Selina’s eyes twinkled.

Kent huffed, then turned to face her, stepping forward to stand between her legs. His hands came up to circle her bare waist.

“I believe I have made it up to you.” He inched closer, “Multiple times.”

“How about you make it up to me one more time, later tonight?” Selina slid off the counter, standing impossibly close.

“How about you review the farmers union talking points memo,” Kent ignored her groan of protest, “I will be back early tomorrow to quiz you, and there will be rewards.”

Selina pushed at his chest. She was so done with him. Kent refused to budge, he pulled Selina back against him, kissing her slowly.

Kent finally broke the kiss, “I would ask you to come along,” He murmured, “but mother has a cardiovascular deficiency. Having the President, as well as twenty secret service agents in her living room might be pushing it.”

“I don’t mingle with the normals after six.” Selina rolled her eyes, and pushed him towards the door, “Get the fuck out.”

“I’ll see you later.” He walked out, and the door slid shut after him.

His cologne lingered after he was gone. It was fucking weird. This random moment, in this random hotel room, on the campaign trail. 

Sharing a fucking bathroom, of all things, was more intimacy than Selina had experienced in decades. 

Like they were just this ordinary couple, who did this kind of thing every other morning. Like she was not the President of the United States, and he was not her employee. 

And damn her if she didn't enjoy it, a little bit too much.

Jesus. What a damn mess.

Selina stepped out into the bedroom, sighing and contemplating what to do for the rest of her free evening.

Then she saw them. Sitting primly on her night stand.

Farmers Union talking points memos.

She thought he was kidding.

Did he just fucking give her homework?!

 

****

 

“Ninety minutes. You get fifteen minutes each per three major topics.”

Kent gestured towards a large chart behind him.

It was good to be home. Selina swung in her seat, paying attention to her campaign manager who stood at the head of the conference table.

Being back in The White House meant more mobility, less scrutiny. But more importantly; no Tom James.

She was sick of his charisma, and his influence on all those morons out there. Selina just needed a break from her running mate.

The team was gathered in the East Room, ahead of debate prep camp. The first town hall debate against O’Brien only a few weeks away. 

Selina couldn't wait to drag him.

“Ninety minutes. No breaks.” Ben scratched his belly, “Unless he’s allowed to take a flask up to the podium, you can count on O’Brien getting the shakes before the end of the first hour.”

“He will get pissy and start spewing dogmatism.” Bill warned. “We need to be prepared.”

“We could circulate an open letter, calling on O’Brien to use facts. Exhibit some self control.” Kent placed his hands on his hips.

“Calling on O’Brien to exhibit self control, is like calling on a dog to stop licking its butthole.” Selina snorted.

“You will keep on the issues. Do not let him drag you down to his level.” Kent suggested.

“I can fucking take O’Brien. I can take eight O’Briens.” Selina scowled.

“You should probably refrain from sexual innuendo as well.” Bill pointed out. Selina felt the recurring urge to punch him in the face return.

“Three topics. Jobs, Families, Foreign policy. We already have a game plan.” Kent ignored their exchange, choosing to stick to his meeting agenda.

“We need to prepare for a question regarding SCOTUS ruling, should they reach a verdict before the debate.” Bill interjected.

“Marriage equality is hot shit this week, it’s gonna be on the table regardless of the ruling.” Ben nodded.

“Fuck No.” Selina exclaimed, “Not gonna support that.”

The room went silent, all eyes turning to her.

“You are, uh.. against gay marriage?” Gary asked, visibly perturbed.

“It’s a sin, yes. But do you really want to share O’Brien’s position?” Bill ruminated.

“Jesus I don’t give a flying fuck who gets to bang who.” Selina eyed Bill in disgust, “It’s the marriage part I got a problem with. My position is: Don’t get married kids, it’s a scam.”

“So you want to come out against it?” Mike asked. He looked barely awake, and it wasn’t even two in the afternoon.

“Kent?” Selina eyed her data guy. “What did your numbers say?”

“Ma’am, between this, and Families First being a major part of your platform. You don’t want to seem ultra progressive.” Kent shrugged.

“So let’s wait and see.” Selina nodded. 

“Are we going to discuss what you’re wearing?” Gary mumbled hesitantly.

“No.” Selina scowled.

“But it’s important to decide.” Gary whined. “Dresses. Pantsuits. Colors”

“I will not play this double standards game.” Selina glared at him, “When the fuck have I ever dressed in a pantsuit?”

“How about that white Saab dress?” Gary asked hopefully, “You’ll look like a bride.”

“White is nice. Optimistic.” Mike suggested helpfully.

“White is not presidential.” Kent frowned. “We are not done discussing jobs and economy.”

“Green!” Gary exclaimed, “You have a very nice formal green gown.”

“Green doesn’t flatter my skintone, it’s not for people with brown eyes.” Selina objected.

“Russet.” Kent corrected, his finger raised.

“What?”

“Your eyes.” Kent elaborated, “Brown is dark, boring, lifeless. Russet however is higher in hue value. It’s pine trees and sunbathed forests...” He trailed off.

The whole room descended into bewildered silence.

“Well that was fucking weird.” Ben finally spoke up.

Kent coughed, and pushed his seat closer to the table. He opened a large file., producing a document. He handed it to Selina, avoiding her gaze.

“Red. It is a statement of power,” He indicated, “it’s always polled best for you, Madam President.”

She surreptitiously glanced around the room. While Ben looked slightly nauseous, the others seemed to have moved on from Kent’s weird commentary.

“Red is fine.” Selina mumbled, “Gary, take care of that.”

For once, Selina was thankful for the abrupt departure of her former campaign manager, Amy would have definitely read into this indiscretion.

Selina gulped and sank into her seat. She found herself torn between the urge to slap him for his stupidity, and the even more pressing urge to rip his  _ ridiculously tight _ suit off, and just do him, right here. Right now.

Either Way, Selina no longer had any interest in continuing this meeting.

Selina pushed her chair back and got to her feet.

_ Fucking russett.  _

“Gary, let’s go.”

 

****

 

“I haven’t seen you all day today.”

Selina stretched and sat on the edge of her bed.

She watched him fold his clothes neatly on top of the dresser across the bedroom.

“Back to back meetings on the Capitol,” Kent wiped a hand across his eyes, suppressing a yawn, “Minority and majority whips, party leadership, among others.”

Selina’s own day was a shit-ton of cabinet meetings, foreign policy briefings, a state dinner. As well as other mundane presidential duties. 

Her schedule for the past two days did not involve any campaign related activities. Which probably explained why she was only now noticing the haggard face of her campaign manager.

“You look like you’re about to keel over.” Selina eyed him wearily, “you sure you’re okay? You can go home. Or just go to sleep if you wanna.”

“No, we don’t have an opening for a... uh, private meeting, until next Wednesday,” He waved his hand in the general direction of her bed.

She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Kent scheduled sex into his day planner, alongside fundraisers and staff meetings.

It was amazing what a couple of months as campaign manager did to him, he was chronically exhausted and more stressed out than she’d ever seen him.

“Alright, come here and worship my expensively maintained body.” Selina shrugged, slipping off her silk robe.

She was spread out half naked across the bed. Kent’s gaze shifted hesitantly between Selina and the blank television set.

“Do you know where the remote is?” He asked. The TV clearly won.

“You kidding me?” Selina sat up. Her tits were out on display and he wanted to watch TV?

“SCOTUS is about to issue a ruling.” Kent gestured towards the TV set, “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Do I have to release that statement tonight?” Selina wondered.

“Preferably, yes.”

Selina sighed, “Gary stashes the remote in that drawer below the bookcase.”

“Your glasses are in here, do you need them?” Kent switched the TV on to CNN.

“We’re supposed to fuck, not watch Anderson Cooper try not to shit his pants for the rest of the night.” Selina grumbled.

He muted the sounds of the chanting supporters on TV, and crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed, “We are exceptional multitaskers.”

Selina pulled him down on top of her, “Oh yeah?”

“If the ruling is in favor, your support means winning liberals and progressives.” Kent kissed her neck, gently biting her pulse point.

“If not?” Selina moaned.

“You could still choose to be the first president to openly support gay marriage.” He traced her clavicle with his lips.

“Jesus.” Selina pushed one hand into his hair, “don’t stop.”

He moved downwards, pushing his face between her breasts. “You would be recognized historically for that.”

“Yes.. Yeah.” selina panted. “Keep going.”

Kent was silent as he leisurely kissed and nipped at her skin. He slowed down before completely coming to a stop.

“Kent,” Selina whined. Kent didn’t react. He breathed deeply.

He was asleep.

“Kent!” She shook his shoulder. What the actual fuck?

Kent mumbled incoherently, and rested his cheek against her sternum.

No man has ever fallen asleep on top of Selina Meyer before. 

Selina wanted to be outraged, but she didn’t have it in her. He was overworked, stressed and sleep deprived, same as Selina herself.

She huffed and wiggled around, before finally settling against the pillows. Selina dragged the duvet up to cover them both, resting her hand on his bare shoulder.

The muted TV caught her attention, people erupted into celebration. Couples were hugging and kissing, kids waving the rainbow flags, mothers raising hand made signs, declaring that love is love.

SCOTUS ruled in favor of marriage equality, it was the beginning of a new era, and Selina could truly care less.

She wasn’t kidding when she’d told her people she despised marriage. Straight or gay. Selina herself had wasted twelve precious years of her life married to a sleazy con-artist.

Why would she encourage others to do the same?

Yet, it was quite shitty having others decide on your behalf, who you can or cannot love. 

The man sleeping with his face squished into her boobs stirred.

It was shitty having to hide that you cared for someone. Having to sneak around for fear of judgment or public prosecution.

Selina ran her fingers through his hair, and he settled back down.

The team wanted her to decide on a position. She picked up her phone from the nightstand.

Good thing Gary showed her how to twitter from the POTUS account. 

She copied words she’d read, and liked, on one of the signs the crowd held. 

Selina remembered to add the tiny colorful flag symbol thingy, as well as a tiny heart.

_ ‘Love Wins.’  _ She hit send.

Far right conservatives hated her since day one. 

Selina figured she might as well give them a reason.

 

****

 

“What is your decision, Madam president?”

Selina could see the man’s lips moving, but she didn’t catch a word of what he was saying.

She glanced down at her day schedule. Highlighted and color coded by Gary.

Two of her six meetings were marked in red for higher importance, in addition to a sit-down interview with the Wall Street Journal.

Gary marked in green an opening for her lunch break, as well as a dinner party, for which Selina was very excited. Her old Annapolis lawyer friends were coming over.

She hadn’t met any of the ladies since before her first attempt to run for president. A little showing off will be good for Selina’s soul.

Her bag-man also penciled into this day’s schedule two senior staff birthdays, for Selina to wish them a good one, claiming it helped with morale and all. 

Selina stared at the names once more; a Susan Novak from the communications office, and one Kent Davison, campaign manager.

“Send out the memo and report back to me.” Ben answered the man, when Selina seemed too distracted to respond.

She could casually stroll by Kent’s office later, wish him a nonchalant happy birthday. They were both too old for that kind of shit anyway. Him being way older of course. She needn’t make it into a thing. Right?

But Selina sort of wanted Kent to know that she’d spared him a thought, throughout her insanely busy day.

Sometimes during last night, coming off her post debate high, after she’d kicked O’Brien’s ass. Selina couldn’t fall asleep due to adrenaline, while Kent slept next to her like a goddamn baby. 

Eight months into their arrangement, Selina came to the realization that she might,  _ just might _ , like Kent, enough to want him to know it went beyond the sex thing.

Despite her track record, and despite knowing better, Selina wanted this.

She could send Gary out to procure a present. Maybe a tie? A new calculator? It seemed terribly lame and impersonal.

Selina didn’t want to appear too invested. Not before she figured out how to lay down her terms. She wasn’t ready just yet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ben asked. “Do you need a break? Another cup of coffee?”

The meeting was over. She hasn’t even noticed. Shit.

“I’m good, what’s next?” Selina frowned at her chief of staff.

“You are meeting with the Women groups leadership.” Ben climbed to his feet with a groan, “luckily I am not invited. 

“Jesus. Those bitches hate my guts.” Selina grumbled. They didn’t believe she was doing enough to support her own gender. Like being the first woman president wasn’t fucking enough.

“Please try and fake some interest in whatever shit they have to say.” Ben begged, “We desperately need their support, if we’re gonna pass Families First.”

Selina got up to welcome the four tall, attractive women being ushered into the Oval by Sue.

“Let’s kick some patriarchal ass, right ladies?” Selina tried. They eyed her with collective disdain. 

It was gonna be a long meeting. 

Perhaps she could stroll casually by her campaign manager’s office. See what he was up to. Ask him to come over tonight after her friends were gone.

And perhaps later, she would put on that skimpy piece of red langerie, the one Selina knew for fact he enjoyed best. She’d get on her knees and blow him. It was his birthday after all.

“Madam President, are you listening?” Prompted one blonde in a power suit, whose name Selina couldn’t recall.

Were they able to read Selina’s risqué line of thoughts? Were they judging her for using her body as a reward? What about Ken, would he judge her for it too? He was more of a feminist than Selina ever was.

“Certainly, your advice will be taken into consideration.” She did not hear a fucking word they said. “Unfortunately, I have a budget meeting I need to get to. Since girls are naturally bad at math, I can’t miss any of it.” Selina couldn’t help herself.

She strolled down the hallway, heading to the situation room for her next meeting. 

Selina peeked into his tiny office. It was dimly lit, but Kent was not in. She continued down to the first floor.

Despite having been their commander for the past eight months, Selina was perpetually intimidated by the Joint Chiefs.

Eight grim faced men of a certain size, in full uniform. Decorated war heroes. While Selina was barely an inch above five feet of height, with zero knowledge of military conduct. She felt like a toddler at a take your child to work day.

Apparently, a whole lot of shit was going down in Yemen, Syria and Sudan. Selina had to sit through an entire briefing on DEFCON levels, weapons, and other details she could give less of a shit about.

She couldn’t wait for the evening she had planned with the ladies. Also the thing with Kent, once she’s able to figure out what to do about his birthday.

“Sure, it’s not like this money could be spent fixing our fucked up school system or depleted infrastructure,” Selina huffed. “So yeah, let’s send more military aid overseas.” 

The decorated generals exchanged a subtle impatient look, but all chose not to respond.

At last, they cleared their seats. Selina remained seated as the directors of different government agencies filed into the room. 

Her fifth meeting of the day. Selina contained a long suffering groan. All she wanted to do at this point was head upstairs for a nap.

Well, Selina could ignore this birthday thing all together. She was busy. He was busy. it would be for the best.

“We will increase airports security as needed.” Explained the director of FBI, or was it Homeland Security? Selina always mixed the two up.

“And ma’am, we will be ready with the final security strategy for November, which we will also debrief Senator O’Brien on.”

“Jesus. That asshat dabbling in national security is a yuge mistake. Yuge.” Selina mimicked her opponent.

The director of FEMA snorted, while the others remained professionally neutral. He had a mean sense of humor, for a man whose job was basically dealing with crapstorms of colossal magnitudes and general fuckups of mother nature. Selina liked him better than his colleagues anyway.

For the rest of the meeting, each director provided a brief report on critical matters she needed to be aware of.

Selina was basically comatose for most of it, until one particular report caught her attention.

She sat up straighter. A plan already formulating.

The group wrapped up the meeting and started clearing the room.

“Hey Cooper?” Selina stopped one director.

“Ma’am?”

“This mission thing, is it going to be viewed live by the public?”

“No, Madame President, for security reasons, we receive the live feed through the ISS, before any footage could be released.”

“I see. And can we monitor the mission from the situation room?”

“Certainly, ma’am.” Cooper piped up, visibly excited. “I thought you’d never ask.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Excellent.” Selina continued, “Say, could a civilian be present for this?”

“Uh.. with the proper clearance, yes ma’am.” He glanced hesitantly at the head of security, who nodded his head in agreement.

“Awesome, How soon can you set it up?”

“The live feed begins at eighteen sharp” Cooper glanced down at his watch. Twenty minutes to go.

Selina did not believe in divine interventions. This however, was the closest she’d ever witnessed. The planets were literally aligning on her behalf.

She turned to a young marine who stood guarding the door, “You. kid. Need you to run upstairs for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Find Kent Davison and bring him down here.”

 

-TBC-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact; this is the first chapter I have written for this story :D  
> Thank you for sticking with us!


	9. It's Really Not My Habit to Intrude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America loves two things: Fatty foods and a political sex scandal.

The grandfather clock in the Lincoln Bedroom chimed into the evening.

Seven times to be exact.

Seven extremely _loud_ times.

Selina fucking loathed that clock. 

Too often, that monstrosity woke her up startled in the middle of the night.

One of the downsides to living in the White House, Selina pondered, and damnit, shewouldn’t change it for the world.

If… No _,_ _when_ she wins this election, Selina will be borrowing a gun from one of her guards, and by God, she will shoot that fucking thing herself.

Normally, Selina wouldn’t even be here in the residence so early in the evening.

Instead of meetings, interviews, or dinner with some donors. 

Instead of dealing with the shitstorm created by Tom James today, with his unforeseen PTSD advocacy.

Instead of doing something about her disastrously doomed mommy Meyer bill. 

Selina was in fact playing hooky, in the middle of the work day, along with her campaign manager.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder and yawned loudly.

“Perhaps we should go back to work.” Kent mumbled.

“I canceled my dinner with the girls, after months of planning,” Selina narrowed her eyes, “you’re not going anywhere. Get ready for round two.”

“But we...” Kent tried again.

“Nope.” Selina hooked one foot around his calf, “You’re not done thanking me for your kickass birthday present.”

“True.” Kent nodded solemnly.

“You’re not gonna fall asleep, are ya?” Selina teased.

He groaned. She sniggered. Selina wasn’t going to let him live his humiliation down anytime soon.

“Well, allow me to once again demonstrate my gratitude, Madam President.”

Selina grinned, she knew exactly how thankful he was.

Kent Davison was a deeply private individual. He rarely displayed emotions. The West Wing’s very own cyborg, as Ben  _ lovingly  _ called him.

Today however, Selina watched his childlike wonder, as a NASA spacecraft snapped photos of a punch of rocks on some planet never explored before.

Selina gave herself the attagirl. As birthday gifts went, she’d aced this one. It was nerdy and weirdly fascinating, just like the man himself.

As campaign manager, Kent was not exactly allowed inside the White House situation room.

Selina might’ve used, and abused her powers to get him down there, so Instead of the recorded, NSA-approved version, which the rest of the normals will be receiving later, Kent got to experience firsthand, raw footage from the live Jupiter mission.

It was risky, but absolutely worth it, as he smiled his gratitude at her from across the room.

“So, why Juno?” Selina wondered, “like historically. What did she get up to?”

“In Roman mythology, Jupiter drew a veil of clouds around himself to hide his extramarital indiscretions. Jupiter's wife, Juno, peered through the clouds and saw Jupiter's true nature.” Kent explained. “She was not very pleased.”

“Basically Jupiter is my ex husband.” Selina snorted, “hope she had a solid prenup in place.”

“Coincidentally, Juno is known as Hera in greek mythology.”

“That is not funny.” Selina pinched his nipple. He knew exactly how much she loathed the moniker given to her by the secret service.

Kent yowled in pain, and rolled on top of her, “It unequivocally is.”

“Gonna need a better nickname when I am officially elected.” Selina brushed her fingers through his hair, “I was thinking Venus. She was one of the hotter ones.”

“Mnn.” his voice was muffled against her sternum.

“Men?” Selina groaned, “As in dudes?,” she squirmed in anticipation as his hand traveled languidly down her body.

“Mene,” Kent corrected, lifting his head up to meet her eyes, “she’s also known as Luna. Greek moon goddess.” 

Selina raised an eyebrow.

He continued, “Luna is sometimes known as Selene. Or Selena in modern mythology.” 

“Did she kick ass?” Selina grinned.

“She was not a war monger, but Selene was the first female goddess to drive her own chariot. She carried the moon across the heavens every night, bringing light and creating waves.”

“Damn right she did.” Selina liked this story.

She also kind of liked that he cited the origin of her name off the top of his head. Her grin widened, she pulled his face closer and kissed him deeply.

Kent shifted, muttering awkwardly as they broke for air, “It's all just a myth, of course, not remotely factual.”

“Nope. No takesy backsy.” She toyed with the hairs at the back of his neck. He needed a haircut. “You believe I’m a feminist goddess.” 

“Always have, Madam President.” He smiled resignedly. 

“I bet you say this to all the presidents you bang.” She smirked.

“You are the first.” he answered sincerely, brushing some hair off her face. “You are the only goddess I have ever known.”

Selina felt her teeth ache, the tender moment a little too.. Sweet. Too good to be true in her experience.

ِAnd against her better judgement, she didn’t want it to end.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” Selina began, except she didn’t get the chance to finish.

The door to the master suite flew open.

“Intruder alert. Step away from the president.”

In the blink of an eye, all hell broke loose. Her bedroom was crashed by twelve, heavily armed secret service agents.

“Wha--?” Selina squeaked, trying to pull the bedsheets up and over the both of them.

The four seconds which Kent took to disentangle his body from hers proved too long for the secret service.

Selina watched, horrified, as an agent physically dragged Kent off her, pushing him down to the floor.

Someone threw the bed sheet around Selina, before she was whisked away towards the other side of the room, away from the windows, where the agents formed a human barricade around her.

While Selina struggled to make sense of what was going on, Kent was attempting to scramble back up to his feet. He reached for his pants, only to have an agent shove him back down.

“Do not move.” The man in the black coat barked, drawing his weapon.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” Selina screamed. Finally finding her voice.

The agents shielding the president drew closer together, effectively blocking Selina’s attempt to go back to Kent.

“This is code red,” The leader of the pack replied curtly. “Mr. Davison is not our protectee, ma’am.”

“Either you stay put or I apprehend you, Mr. Davison,” the one with the raised gun grunted.

Selina’s heart was racing. Holy shitballs. She’d never been so scared in her life, not even that time she spent Thanksgiving in Kabul with the troops.

The room was silent for a long, unnerving minutes. Selina could hear her own heart thumping loudly in her chest.

She needed to fill this silence with anything.

“So, you guys ever have a terrorist interrupt ya getting laid?” 

Unlike this morning’s commotion at the oval office, Selina couldn’t hear a sound outside her locked doors.

“No? First time for me too.”

Selina wasn’t expecting an answer. Neither from the security details, nor from her lover who sort of had a gun to his head at the moment.

She still couldn’t stop talking.

“Is it the same intruder from earlier?” She wondered, “did he come back to finish the job while I slept?”

Jesus. She was shaking like a half jerked-off dog.

Selina noticed the senior agent touch his earpiece, before he motioned to his team to stand down.

“Hera secure.” He spoke into his cuff, then turned to Selina, “It’s all clear, Madam President.”

“What the fuck was all of this?”

That’s it?  No axe wielding wacko. No one getting tackled? No gunshots?

“The incident report will be put together shortly, Madam President.” He nodded curtly. “Please enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am.”

“Son of a bitch...” Selina didn’t get the chance to tell him exactly where to shove  _ the rest of his evening _ . He walked out.

And just like that, they were all gone.

 

*****

 

The door clicked shut behind the last agent.

Selina took a few calming breaths.

Kent was propped up against the foot of her bed, cradling his head in his hands. A cushion was strategically placed on his lap.

She tucked the sheet tighter around herself, and walked over to stand next to him.

“Crazy night, huh?” Selina extended a hand to help him up, “Come on. I’ll get us some bourbon.”

Selina’s heart was still racing. She could really use a drink right now.

He didn’t accept her offered hand. He didn’t meet her eyes either.

Selina dropped to her knees, clutching the sheet to her chest with a trembling hand.

It was not exactly the first time Selina had to face some nutjob with homicidal tendencies. 

It wasn’t even the first time today.

But it  _ was  _ just fucking different. 

The situation was intense. Way more intense than the alert from this morning.  This was in fact the first time the residence was placed under lockdown due to a security threat.

The residence was her only home at the moment, her sanctuary, her safety zone. She longed for this place to be her home for the next eight years.

Fucking intruders had no sense of empathy whatsoever.

She was also still shaken by the image of Kent with a gun leveled at his head. Naked and petrified.

He still wouldn’t look at her.

Selina placed a tentative hand on his knee. They were both just fucking fine. 

Still, she found herself needing the physical reassurance.

Selina did  _ not  _ need people. Not him. Not anyone else.

She was the fucking president of the United States. She had an actual army to keep her safe, she didn’t need Kent to tell her everything was gonna be okay.

Yet, it was exactly what she needed right now. 

Selina squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions. She snatched her hand back and inhaled a deep calming breath.

“One day we’ll laugh about this.” She shrugged weakly, “come on--”

Selina’s words were interrupted, as the door to the master suite was pushed open. Again.

“Mom! Oh God I was so scared!” Catherine burst into the room, “The Secret Service wouldn’t let me…” 

The first daughter came to a halt in front of the startled pair.

The two jumped apart. Kent looked around desperately, a deer caught in the headlights. 

He placed both hands on top of the cushion on his lap.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect. Selina groaned. 

“Jesus freaking Christ mom!” Catherine shrieked, “I was actually worried.”

“Catherine, you need to fucking knock!” Selina admonished her daughter who wasn’t even listening.

“And you need to fucking stop using the people on your payroll for sex.” Catherine hissed, “Have some self respect, for God’s sake.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like this!” Selina finally snapped, getting to her feet. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please,” Catherine scoffed. “It’s not exactly the first time I’ve walked in on you screwing the help.”

The room descended into stunned silence. Selina could have explained. She should have defended him. She freely chose not to.

“Catherine Selina Meyer. You will respect my guest!” Selina scolded her daughter instead.

“Don’t even.” Catherine waved her off, “I am so glad this intruder didn’t kill you, mom, so you can carry on scarring my psyche for many, many years to come.”

The first daughter fled the room. Not bothering to shut the door.

“Catherine!” Selina moved to follow, when she noticed Kent collecting his clothes swiftly.

She was torn.  “Sorry.” Selina tried, “I need to go talk to her.”

“No apologies needed. She’s not wrong.” Kent murmured, buttoning up his shirt hastily.

“Kent..” Selina hesitated. What could she possibly say to make this shitty situation better?

Between Kent’s pale distress, and Catherine’s shrieking rage, Selina felt the urge to escape this drama.

Come to think of it, the intruder could’ve just shot Selina and put her out of her misery. Was that too much to ask?

Alas, She just needed a fucking minute to get her shit together.

“I’m just gonna talk to Catherine.” Selina pulled her robe on, “I won’t be long.”

“Don’t bother.” Kent mumbled, “I’m going to go.”

“It’s probably still not safe out there.” Selina frowned.

“I will take my chances.” He huffed.

“Kent, look..” Selina trailed off, she was not about to apologize. Was she? 

What would she even apologize for?

For Catherine’s rude insinuations? For his repeated humiliation? For putting his life in danger? For her own inability to connect on a deeper human level?

“She is your only family...” he trailed off. “You realize she wasn’t going to expose us.”

“ _ Us _ ? You wanna go there? Now?” Selina gaped at him. 

“I want you, for once, to hold yourself accountable for your own actions.”  He raked his fingers through his hair, “your own daughter thinks I’m some random _guest_.”

“She’s none of your fucking business. You’re not exactly gonna be her step daddy.”

“No. You’re absolutely correct.” Kent nodded sadly, “Good night, Madam President.” 

He picked up his jacket and walked out.

Selina felt her ire rising.

She did not cause any of this, she was the fucking victim here!

This intruder was here to kill  _ her  _ for God’s sake, and Kent was painting her as the villain?

Selina slipped her feet into her slippers, and marched out of the master suite. 

Screaming at Catherine should probably make her feel a bit better. 

Except, the corner room was empty.

Catherine was gone too.

 

*****

 

“Balloons?”

Selina eyed her chief of staff wearily.

“College graduation party.” Ben explained. 

He sat across from her at the breakfast bar in the Sun Room, sipping coffee from his large ass travel mug.

“A bunch of balloons floated into the grounds near the East Wing, triggering the security alert.” Ben elaborated.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” Selina stirred her coffee, suppressing a yawn. 

She barely slept a wink last night, after the disastrous evening she’d survived.

“It’s all in the secret service report.” Ben inclined his head towards the ‘Confidential’ folder on the table.

Her chief of staff wasn’t even supposed to be working today, however, he had to update Selina on the security situation from last night.

“Right.” She nodded.

All this drama, and no actual lunatic out to kill her? Jesus.

“Guess what else was in the report?” Ben made a show of opening his folder, “POTUS’s whereabouts during the alert.”

“Yeah?” Selina felt her trepidation grow.

“Initially, she was supposed to be dining with old college friends, but was in fact entertaining a male companion.” Ben’s tone was accusing.

“So?” Selina replied defiantly.

They stared each other down for a long tense moment.

“Are you out of your mind?” He finally exploded.

“Excuse me!”

“No, actually, I won’t. Are you fucking out of your fucking mind?” Ben slammed his palm on the table.

The agent at the door shifted uneasily in her peripheral vision.

“My private life is none of your fucking business.” Selina scolded.

Did Ben know the identity of said  _ companion  _ as well?

“I am your chief of staff. Your entire  life  is my literal fucking job.” He exclaimed.

“You are crossing a line here buddy.” Selina warned.

“Do you really think I wanted to read those reports on how you banged your snake of an ex-husband? Or your dumb as shit personal trainer?” He grumbled, “because as your chief of staff I had to see things that cannot be unseen.”

Selina felt her anger give way to bitterness. Her life was not really her own. Hasn’t been for a very long while.

“It was never any of my business where you chose to get your jollies on,” Ben continued, “till you had to go and bang Kent fucking Davison.”

Selina’s mouth opened and closed a bunch of times.

The fucking cat was truly out of the fucking bag.

“They put him in the report?” Selina asked weakly.

“He’s in the reports, he’s on the visitors log, he’s every where, like fucking pollen in April.”

Selina swallowed, looking away.

“Jesus fucking Christ Selina. Of all the wide world of dick, you had to pick  _ him _ .” Ben griped. “Why couldn’t you just stick to doinking a bunch of interns, or secret service agents, like the forty something presidents who came before you?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you.” She replied coolly. “I know you despise him, but he is kinda okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ben rolled his eyes.

“I am serious. He’s actually turned out to be a good guy.” She probably chose the wrong moment to start defending him.

“I’ve known that goddamn robot for years. Long before you started making analogies about his cum face.” Ben growled, “Of course he’s a fucking good guy, you’re the one taking advantage of him. Another conquest on your presidential bedpost.”

“Jesus. We’re both consenting adults here.” Selina grimaced. 

“Doesn’t fucking matter what I think. You’re the fucking president. This is what the headlines will read when this scandal breaks.”

“It won’t come to that.” Selina tried to reassure him, though not so confident herself. “We’ve kept it under everyone’s radar until last night, we know how to be discreet.”

“How long?” Ben’s eyes widened, realization dawning on him.

“It’s none of your business.” She’d already said enough.

“How fucking long, Selina?”

“Since before I took office.” Selina looked down at her hands, “it’s not a one time thing, it’s not a goddamn conquest.”

Ben was silent for a long while.

“Well, fuck me.” he finally groaned. “Let me tell you, America loves two things; Fatty foods and a political sex scandal.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me, Ben. I’ve held public office for twenty two years.” Selina sneered, “My name has never been linked to a scandal. Not even once.”

“And yet here we are.” Ben rubbed a hand across his eyes, “Who else knows?”

“The secret service, Catherine, you obviously.” Selina sighed.

“Not Gary?” Ben quirked an eyebrow. “Jesus. What about Amy?”

“No. Why would I tell those morons?”

Ben gave her a curious look, “you’re not exactly known for your ability to keep your mouth shut.”

“Well not this time.”

Ben nodded his head, before looking up startled.

“Wait, are there any sexts? Christ. Please tell me there are no dick pics in your government email inbox. I don’t think I could handle a wiener situation right now.” Ben shuddered.

“Please, I am not some White congressman. I fucking know better.” Selina scowled.

“Clearly not.” Ben snorted, “we have all worked too hard, we’ve come too far to lose everything now.” 

“You’re being too dramatic, no one will give a shit. It’s not like either one of us is married or underage. I am allowed to have a personal life.”

“No you’re not,” Ben waved her off, “Not when your lover’s paycheck comes from campaign donations. Not when his paycheck as chief advisor came from the taxpayers' dime.”

“I am not--” Selina tried, but Ben wouldn’t let her. 

“Four years ago, Kent Davison was in charge of Hughes’ running mate selection. Everything about your little  _ romance _ reeks of scandal.”

“Like I even wanted to be Veep.” Selina grumbled bitterly. “A  single  _male_ POTUS wouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”

“Perhaps, but once sex is involved, someone’s always gonna be accused of using someone else.”

Selina groaned as she contemplated his words.

“I hate being the voice of reason, but Selina, it's not just your political future on the line here.” Ben mumbled, “Kent will go down in history as the man who took one for the team. He will be toxic waste in DC.”

“Whatever you're implying. Don’t.” Selina slammed her fist on the table, “He is fucking good at his job, better than any of you, bullfarts. It’s the only reason he was hired.”

“Then it comes down to you, the first woman president, using your sexuality to control the men on your staff. Abusing those in no position to say no.” 

She felt lightheaded just trying to piece together what it all meant. 

Not once did she consider the shitload of backlash which Ben just brought up.

Selina buried her face in her hands. What a fucking mess. 

“I cannot fire another campaign manager, not with less than three months to the elections.” Ben declared.

“We’re not fucking firing anyone.”

“So, you gonna snap out of it, and end this nonsense,” Ben warned, “we’ll call the Vatican and have them set up one of those long ass prayer sessions for this not to leak before November.”

Selina sighed. “Jesus fucking Christ. Get out now.. I need to be alone.”

“Just…” Ben huffed, “What were you thinking?“

She looked away, weighing her words.

To hold herself accountable for her own actions, is what he said.

Outside the window, the garden was alive with colors, the early morning sky was clear.

The answer wasn’t that complicated.

“I wasn't.”

 

*****

 

It was a humid, suffocating Monday morning.

August in DC was the absolute worst, as far as Selina was concerned.

“Did you not take the vitamins and omega?” Gary trailed after her, trying not so subtly, to figure out the reason why she looked like shit. 

Selina kept on walking, not bothering with an answer.

Sleep eluded her last night. The fucking sheets still smelled of him. 

Selina was furious, she’d expected the maid service at the presidential residence to be a notch above that of a Cancun rental beach house during spring break.

“I set them on the counter, next to your.. Other pills.” Gary continued.

Every morning, Selina crossed this colonnade on the way to her office from the residence. The rose garden to her left, breathtakingly beautiful.

Selina loved having this place as her backyard.

Not this morning though.

“The green georgette dress will look great at the UN Assembly.” Gary's chatted on, unaware of her mood. “It’s a clear statement:  _ climate change? Not on my watch! _ ”

This past weekend still felt so surreal. The bubble she’d existed in for the last eight months suddenly burst. In the harsh light of day, Selina saw the proportion of the mess she was in.

A young, solemn-faced marine saluted her, before opening the door to the oval office. 

Just like the couple of hundred times before this one, she was simultaneously apprehensive, and proud of how far she’d come.

Every morning, she sat down at the resolute desk, there was that peculiar sense of joy mixed with the sobering weight of responsibility. 

Also the desperate hoping for a day without fuck-ups.

Selina Meyer has never wished for a simple life. She was always destined for greatness, she was predestined to become president, ever since she was a little girl holding her father’s hand, at an inaugural address forty years ago.

She was not some naive schoolgirl with delusions of happily ever afters. God forbid, she wasn’t Catherine. 

Selina was America’s first female president. She was going to be officially elected president in less than ninety days, come hell or high water.

Sue entered the office, gracefully with a stack of files in her arms. As neat and sharp as ever, reminding Selina how awful she personally looked, and felt, this morning.

“Good morning, Ma’am. The Norwegian Nobel Committee is debating adding your name to the short list. The Iran peace deal.”

“Damn right they should. Thank you Sue, It’s been an awful weekend. I needed some good news.”

“And we lost four servicemen to an incident of friendly fire in Mosul, ma’am.”

“Jesus. Not good.”

“You have cabinet meeting at eight forty. Intelligence briefing at Ten.“

“Well, Sue, get me the call sheet for the dead guys families. Gary, you find me a pack of cigarettes.” Selina huffed, “and I will need fifteen minutes with Kent Davison.”

Ten minutes later, Selina was halfway through a security report when there was a knock at her door.

She didn’t look up as Kent entered the Oval Office.

“I apologize for departing so abruptly Friday night.”

There was a rare touch of hesitation in his voice. She glanced up.

He looked awful too. It made her feel worse about what she intended to do.

Selina focused her attention back on her paperwork.

“Following the security alert on Friday, the codes to the residence have been changed.” Selina chose her words carefully. “Your access has been revoked.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“It was not my intention to overstep any boundaries, or to pressure you. However I do not wish for our arrangement to diverge.”

“Yeah, that ship has sailed, buddy.”

“Don’t you believe this is an overreaction?”

“This isn’t a fucking request, I am ordering you to fucking let it go.”

“So you get to decide for the both of us?”

“Jesus. Yes. There’s no fucking ‘Us’. You’re a senior aide, who got to drill the president a bunch of times.” She gritted her teeth.

Selina understood how ripping a band-aid worked. She continued, ferociously.

“You don’t have a say in this. You get to keep your job. And a few years from now, you get to write about it in your memoir. That should be enough compensation for ya.”

“You know I’m not that kind of man. I wouldn’t sell you out. I am not.. Andrew.”

“Oh, please! You’re all Andrew.” She scoffed, “People sleep with presidents for leverage, and to get ahead, it’s a universal truth. You’re not that special, Kent.”

He flinched and stepped back, his features hardening.

“You solicited my service to ‘scratch an itch’ as I recall.” Kent placed his hands on his hips. “You came after me.”

“Don’t fucking flatter yourself.” Selina stiffened. “You were merely the most convenient lay in the West Wing.”

Selina folded her arms, it was time to end both their suffering.

“Families first is getting dick slapped in the house and by the media. We need to save it, in order to save this fucking presidency. You have a campaign to run, elections to win. So you know, get to work. Shoo.”

“Selina...”

“It’s Madam President to you.” She admonished firmly.

His shoulders sagged.

Selina raised her chin. Resolved to end this conversation on her own terms.

“That will be all.”

-TBC-


	10. It Grieves Me So To See You In Such Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirty eight days to go.  
> Barring a disaster or a scandal.  
> Victory was so close.

The cabin was cool and dimly lit.

It was a smooth flight out of Hangzhou International Airport.

Air Force One was still the most amazing aircraft Selina’s ever boarded.

Alas, Selina wished the private suite had thicker walls.

“Someone will hear you.”

He shushed her.

“Keep going.” She pushed his head further down.

Selina felt amazing. The entire world ceased to exist, all she could feel was intense pleasure, brought to her by Kent’s stupid, talented mouth.

A soft knock broke into her fog of enjoyment.

“Go away!” Selina groaned.

She looked back down between her legs, Kent was no longer there.

The knocking was louder now.

Selina startled awake.

Sometimes during the long flight home from China, host of this year’s G20 summit, Selina fell into restless sleep.

The cabin was cool and dimly lit.

She was completely alone.

“Ma’am, we reach Andrews in forty minutes.” Gary’s voice carried through the door.

The trip was eighteen hours long, but at the exact moment she was about to reach this desperately needed release, they had to arrive home and steal her moment.

Selina buried her face in the pillows and screamed her frustration.

“Fuck you Gary, and you too, America.”

 

***

 

Selina hit the ground running.

Monday evening was spent campaigning in Orlando, Florida.

She shook hands, and posed for photos with donors.

The Meyer-James rally this morning was the largest turnout she’d ever witnessed. Normally, Selina relished the attention, she enjoyed the riveted crowds, who always seemed to buy the stump speech bullshit right out of her mouth.

Not today though. Selina was tired and barely able to keep her eyes open.

Gary whispered the name of a woman who was approaching them, with a hot, young hunk on her arm. ‘Mayor Perkins. Grade A contributor. Not her son, fifth husband, former surfing champion.’

She had no idea what Gary expected her to do with this last bit of information.

Selina shook their hands and smiled to the camera. Good for Perkins, no one should tell a hot, successful woman in her fifties who she should or should not be screwing.

It’s been twenty four days since that fateful morning in August, when Selina ended whatever she had with Kent.

But Selina was okay. She was perfectly fine.

Between running the country, campaign stops, international events, and the train wreck that was her Mommy Meyer bill, she was busy surviving the final two months leading up to the elections.

Selina was doing great. She was completely over their ill-advised affair.

She ran into him a couple of times in the following weeks. He’s been aloof and so fucking professional.

Selina took it very gracefully when Ben informed her of Kent’s request to have his office relocated to campaign headquarters in Baltimore.

The invaluable time she’d once squandered in his office; arguing, making out, or getting the occasional foot massage, could now be better utilized, actually working on her campaign.

Selina no longer felt that gut-twisting dejection each time she walked by fat wolverine.

And sooner or later, the sex dreams will stop. They just had to. Otherwise Selina may fucking lose it.

“I need a cigarette.” She grumbled to Gary.

Tuesday afternoon, Selina eyed the distant bustling streets of Manhattan wistfully, as the motorcade made its way down the plaza.

It’s been almost a decade since Selina walked down the street unescorted by a bunch of security guards.

She missed her freedom. She missed having the ability to make choices that weren’t solely based on polling numbers.

On the brighter side, her address to the UN General assembly was a great success.

Who knew climate change would be such a hit.

 _Everyone_. She could almost hear Kent solemnly answer.

Jesus. She was hearing voices now.

Selina shook her head and turned to Gary.

“I need a drink, and something for this fucking headache.”

“You don’t look so good.” Ben eyeballed her.

“I’m coming down with a cold, I haven’t had a fucking day off in a year.”

“Cheer up, we’re two points behind O'Brien, if you lose, you get a whole fucking year off.”

At the moment, Selina was tired enough, defeat didn’t exactly sound like the worst case scenario.

Wednesday morning, Selina took the stage in Newton, Massachusetts.

“I have always, and I will continue to put your families first!”

Selina ignited the cheering crowds.

When she was done, someone handed her a chunky baby, whose nose looked alarmingly runny.

Selina stiffened momentarily, before she smiled widely, and kissed the fat pink cheek. The cameras flashed, capturing the spontaneous  ‘cute’ moment.

Selina felt slightly faint, and handed the baby back to its owners. She took Ben’s extended hand and stepped off the stage.

They rushed back to the car, where Selina promptly emptied the content of her stomach.

“I have your motion sickness wristband.” Gary offered.

“The car hasn’t even moved yet.” Ben eyed her wearily. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

She turned to glare at him, when another wave of nausea hit. She projectile vomited on his shoes.

The sound that Ben made was absolutely worth it.

She felt a little better afterwards.

Thursday evening, Selina arrived at the Vassar campus.

She was treated to one of the most disturbing dance performances she’d ever witnessed.

“Thank you for coming to my show, mom.”

Catherine squirmed away before allowing her mother a hug.

Things haven’t exactly been fun between the two of them, not since Catherine walked in on her and Kent, that awful evening in August.

Catherine was still sweating after the show, in her glittery pink latex full-body suit. Selina wrinkled her nose.

On the bright side, Catherine was not completely nude, like her classmates, who had brightly colored feathers glued to their privates, and nothing else on. Same privates which they flashed at the audience for forty-five torturous minutes.

Selina shuddered at the memory.

“Honey, you were absolutely.. sparkling up there!” Selina told her enthusiastically.

“Yeah? You don’t have to lie. You’re here because the people who vote need to see you being motherly and stuff.”

“Of course not! I wanted to see your little dance thing.. Or whatever the fuck that was.” Selina has been a politician for twenty two years, she knew how to lie with a straight face.

“Where are your people?”

“Gary is right outside.”

“I meant the others, Ben.. and him.” Catherine pulled a face. Him being Kent, Catherine’s newest villain.

“We’re not joined at the hip. They have other things to do.”

“I haven’t seen him with you on any of the news this month, some twitter accounts even had questions about you campaigning without your campaign manager.”

Jesus. Nothing slips by those fucking internerds.

“Well honey, like I said, this is not a campaign stop, so of course I didn’t bring my campaign manager.”

Catherine looked uncertain.

“Did you two break up? Is this why you’re all sad and greenish?”

“I am not sad! I’m just fine. A little overheated maybe.” Selina blinked. “Also, we did not break up, since we were never together. It was just.. Adult stuff.”

The burning sensation in her throat reminded Selina how this particular lie didn’t come as easily as the ones before.

“So, you were like.. using him for the D?”

Selina choked, then coughed multiple times, unable to stop once she’d started.

Gary rushed in with a bottle of water.

She would have preferred some brandy, but water will do for now.

On Friday, Selina was back in DC.

Weeks ago, she’d accepted an invitation from the National Committee, aiming for a display of partisan unity.

Selina knew for fact that most of those dickwads at this event never wanted her to end up as the front-runner in the general elections.

She still had to make an appearance, and schmooze for a few hours.

Except that Selina’s cough was way worse since this morning, she was sore and her head felt like the bottom of a bus stop urinal.

She looked across the room where her Chief of Staff and Campaign manager were arguing by the bar.

Catherine’s observations from last night caused some alarm in the Meyer camp. Due to Selina driving off two campaign managers in less than a year, Kent Davison’s absence from public events was bound to raise questions.

Aside from a terse nod of acknowledgment, Kent had very little to say to her throughout the day. Not that Ben would even allow it.

Ben had refused to let Kent ride with them. Once they arrived at the event, he followed Kent around, refusing to let him out of his sight the entire evening.

“Just making sure you two lovebirds don’t end up boinking on camera.” He told Selina tactlessly, while Kent was taking a phone call.

Selina was about to tell Ben to go fuck himself, when the committee chair and the minority leader approached them.

Selina put on her ‘polled-best-for-likability’ smile, while her shoulders shook with a coughing fit she tried to suppress. She had a bad feeling about this.

The pleasantries and the photos were done, when the other shoe dropped.

“Madame President, we’re ready to throw the full support of the party leadership behind you, however your ‘Mommy Meyer’ bill needs to go.” The man informed her.

“Otherwise, every senator on this side of the isle will happily jump ship. Don’t do it for us, do it for the greater good of the party.” The other one warned.

Her eyes flashed to Kent’s. It was the end of _their_ bill.

“It’s called Families First.” She replied weakly.

“Right. Who came up with this fucking idiotic name anyway?”

The two walked away, leaving Selina and her three employees behind. They stood in mutual silence.

Selina hoped to make life a bit easier for working families, and for single mothers. She also hoped to be elected first female president this fall. The two refused to coexist.

The dry September air hit her face once they exited the event.

Selina’s chest began to tighten. She slowed down, trying to catch her breath. Her vision blurred and she stumbled.

She could faintly hear the heated argument between Ben and Kent to her left, while Gary walked a few steps ahead.

Selina felt an absurd shift in her surroundings as the floor switched places with the walls.

The world tilted violently.

Before she closed her eyes she noticed a couple of things.

Ben’s eyes widening in panic.

Kent’s arms shooting out, trying to catch her.

Gary diving in her direction, but crashing and falling down the stairs instead.

The secret service started dashing around.

“Hera down. Lock it up. Hera down.”

The world went dark.

 

****

 

Selina kicked at the covers.

She felt slightly less terrible than when she woke up in the hospital.

She wanted some water, but was too groggy to get up and get some.

At least she was home, in her own bed.

The dehydration, vomiting and feeling so fucking crappy all the time, turned out to be a mild case of pneumonia.

The doctors at Walter Reed’s wanted to keep Selina overnight under observation, but her people refused. The president wasn’t allowed a sick day. Particularly during an election year.

Someone tucked the covers back around her. Selina lifted her head.

Kent sat in the chair next to her bed.

“Do you need some water?”

He was probably a mind reader on top of everything else.

“Yeah.” She croaked.

“Your next dose of antibiotics is in an hour,” he inclined his head.

“How did ya get past Ben? Is he drugged up and handcuffed somewhere?” Selina coughed and tried to sit up.

“He probably is, but that’s not the point.” Kent explained. “There’s a lot of damage control to be handled when POTUS collapses at a public event.”

“Sorry my pneumonia is such an inconvenience for y’all.”

“He also knows that we won’t get into any trouble with you in your current condition.” Kent smiled tightly.

“You’re saying I’m repulsive?” Selina sniffled, her sense of smell was gone, but she could tell how utterly disgusting she must look.

Kent handed her a couple of tissues. Selina’s humiliation multiplied. She sat up against the pillows, trying to regulate her breathing.

“Where is Gary? He’s a much better nurse than you.”

“He hit his head when you fainted, the doctor sent him home to sleep off a mild concussion.”

“Fucking useless.” She grumbled.

“He was worried. We all are.” He crossed his arms.

They sat in mutual silence for a while.

“You were worried?” She had to ask.

“I was concerned, yes.”

Selina regarded him closely, his tie was gone, his jacket was off. She also believed this was the same shirt from last night.

Perhaps it was cruel to go there, but at the moment, Selina was too sick, and incredibly weak, “I missed you.” She whispered.

Kent looked up startled, then sighed and climbed to his feet.

Selina expected him to turn around and leave, her eyes slightly stung. Instead he shuffled closer, and sat on top of the covers. He placed both arms around her, tucking Selina against his side.

“As did I.” he mumbled.

Selina closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

It was this fucking pneumonia, weakening her defences.

He rested his head against the headboard, and spoke in a soothing voice.

“A child who had struggled so fruitlessly for the love and approval of their own mother, has to doubt if anyone could ever love them, with all their flaws, with all their baggage, without agenda.”

Selina pressed her face into his shoulder.

“You’re the President, I am but one of the thousands of people who serve in your administration.” He took her hand in his. “I have certain feelings for you, they’re inappropriate and they’re inconvenient. But you cannot tell me they’re unrequited.”

This was probably the most vulnerable he’d ever allowed himself to be. Selina felt dizzy, unable to offer him any kind of response.

“You dismissed my wishes so nonchalantly. You accused me of intentions I did not harbor.” He continued, “However, I believe I understand your reasoning.”

“Kent, I…”

“I fully acknowledge what’s at stake. You worked too hard to get to where you are today. An affair with an employee, with someone on your payroll, is an assured scandal. However, a relationship with someone who doesn’t directly benefit from your office is no cause for alarm.”

“What are you saying?” Selina’s breath caught in her throat. Which caused her to start coughing once more. He rubbed her back comfortingly.

“I could get a job outside the White House today. I have offers from private lobbying firms, I even have an offer from Georgetown.”

“You wanna quit?” Selina stiffened.

“I don’t. But I would, if you ask me to.”

“The campaign… We can’t hire a new manager now!”

“It’s a binary decision.” he squeezed her hand gently, “Do you want me here simply as your campaign manager, or are you willing to give _this_ a chance?”

“You can’t expect me to choose this over the chance to win!”

“I would never do that. You have my full support regardless of what you decide,” he reassured her. “But you also have other choices here, and the knowledge that I’m replaceable as your campaign manager.”

Selina wondered momentarily if this entire conversation was a hallucination, induced by the medications she was on for her pneumonia.

“This is so..” She trailed off.

“You don’t have to respond right now. I’ll wait until you’re feeling more clear headed,” he withdrew his hand from hers, “If you decide you’re not interested, if you elect not to reply at all, rest assured, I’ll never bring this up again.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me this now?” She wanted to know.

He was silent for a moment.

“You collapsed, and I was... We were,” Kent hesitated, “I was really worried.”

A light knock at her door interrupted them. Kent moved to the edge of the bed.

“Gee. At least you two are fully dressed. Thank fuck for that.”

Naturally, it was Catherine.

Her timing has always been the worst, ever since her conception.

Kent nodded politely at Catherine, then looked at Selina resignedly.

He turned and walked out.

“You should marry him, mom. Anyone who’s able to put up with the way you smell right now is definitely a keeper.”

 

****

 

Selina put the phone down.

Four days after her ungraceful collapse, she was still strictly on bed rest.

At least she was able to move around her bedroom, free to wallow in self misery.

Families First was officially dead, following a humiliating vote in the house, according to what Ben just explained over the phone.

_“If we make it to November, crisis free, our chances of winning are significantly better.”_

Thirty eight days to go.

Barring a disaster or a scandal.

Victory was so close.

Selina needed to take care of one other issue.

She picked up her cell and dialed…

 

-TBC-


	11. And Would You Please Explain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s nothing incriminating about the voice memos. They might actually distract from the other issue.”

“Not one ounce of truth to these allegations.”

Selina ended the press conference, clenching her shaking hands around a White House binder. 

She walked back into the Oval Office, her head held high.

 

_ House Judiciary Committee Hearing - Day One _

The first subpoena arrived for Ben Cafferty thirty three days before the general election. 

The following afternoon, a dozen more subpoenas arrived for the rest of the senior staff.

The timing couldn’t have been worse for the Meyer campaign.

Everybody walked around the West Wing in a daze, as if they’d already lost the White House.

Twenty eight days prior to the polls opening nationwide, the House Judiciary Committee launched their first hearing into the Meyer Administration’s lobbying against their own bill.

Their game plan was to deny, deny, and then deny some more.

Ben was a natural, he played the committee like the pro he was.

Selina was impressed.

His nonchalance, his offense before defense technique, seemed to console the rest of the staff.

Until the first material witness took the stand, that is.

Leigh fucking Patterson.

Pandora's box of shit was open. The stench of impending doom started wafting it.

Selina glowered as the little weirdo went on and on about how she was sacrificed for Easter. 

Plausible deniability about the whole lobbying against Families First was one thing.

Denying the actual crime of using dead children’s private data, that was a whole different story.

Ben started to stumble.

**

“Did you bring the good stuff?”

“Of course.” Selina handed Ben a bottle of Jameson whiskey that was roughly Catherine’s age.

They settled in front of the small television set in his office to watch the live C-Span coverage of their very own debacle. The committee proceeded to question Dan, Amy and Jonah.

“Thank you for not throwing me under the bus.” Ben mumbled, looking down at his glass.

Selina eyed him wearily, Ben was her oldest friend, at this forlorn moment, the only person she could trust. 

He was all she got right now.

It was a sobering, depressing thought.

Selina looked back at the TV with a sigh.

“Finish your fucking drink. We haven’t lost just yet.”

 

****

_ House Judiciary Committee Hearing - Day Two _

Selina gave her deposition early in the day from the White House Library Room, she kept her glasses on, hoping it might disguise ‘twitchy’.

Her little  _ friend  _ was back with fucking vengeance.

Selina answered the questions with a detached smile. 

She could barely remember the events of the past two weeks, let alone specific details of the conspiracy to use lobbyists to sway the vote, due to being so ill, and due to the mix of drugs in her system at the time.

One thing Selina did however remember very clearly; Kent holding her, and spilling his guts.

Meanwhile, Selina had known all along that Catherine’s fiance would prove to be a nuisance. 

Naturally, today was the day for this to come to light.

Selina gritted her teeth while watching Kent and Bill give their testimony.

Things haven’t been the same between Selina and her campaign manager since her health episode.

She’d expected him to at least keep the lines of communication open between the two of them, anything to reassure Selina that he was still on her side, despite how she chose to answer his recent proposition. 

Instead, he was acting like a crabby little bitch, and calling his little friend ‘ _ a good kid’. _

_ “I am the president, I don’t have time for friends.” _

Selina replied to a question from the investigator, and she meant it too. 

It wasn’t difficult for Selina to go ahead and announce the end of Catherine’s engagement, mother knew better, and all that crap.

Selina frowned while watching the rest of the session, as Bill tried to throw Kent under the bus.

Now that was an even bigger asshole.

How did she let this dreadful snake into their garden?

**

_ ‘Gaylien, Supercalifragilisticexpiali-Dick-Cheese....’ _

“Oh, that’s a good one.” Ben smirked.

Selina returned to Ben’s office the next evening, with another bottle of booze, to watch the rest of the testimonies.

_ ‘Jizzy-Gillespie.’ _

“That was me.” Selina shrugged. “I hoped it would catch on.”

“Do they have to read the entire list though?” Ben wondered.

“I guess not, but it’s funny as fuck.” Selina grinned, “Maybe it will give people something to laugh at other than our misfortune.”

“If this doesn’t work, we could put  _ twitchy  _ on camera. The little guy loves the attention.”

“Prick.” Selina muttered, he shrugged.

They drank in silence for a while.

“Is Catherine okay?”

“What? Oh, I guess, I don’t know.”

“Perhaps you two will finally bond over the ‘dumping a guy to save the election’ thing.”

“Ha-fucking-haha.”

They continued listening to the rest of  _ The Jonad _ list.

_ ‘Spewbacca.’ _

“Who came up with that one?” Selina choked on her drink.

“Oddly enough. That was Kent.”

Selina’s amusement turned into a wistful smile.

 

****

 

_ House Judiciary Committee Hearing - Day Three _

“Ten bucks Mike accidentally names himself as the sole perpetrator in this whole fiasco.”

Ben announced from his location on the couch next to Selina.

They gathered in Selina’s Chief of Staff office, day drinking, and watching the third session of the hearings. Ben to her right, Catherine to her left.

Bill and Kent occupied the other two seats, while Gary hovered at the door.

“Twenty bucks he has a sandwich inside that filing box.” Selina raised Ben’s bet.

“Can I have some of that?” Catherine eyed the tequila bottle in Ben’s hands.

“This is too strong for you, honey.” Selina waved her off.

“Mom I’m twenty two, I could handle some tequila.”

“No, Gary can get you some white wine. Less calories.”

Catherine sulked, Selina ignored her.

Halfway through her testimony, Sue handed the committee the next piece of information they didn’t need to have.

Selina, Ben and Kent all groaned.

“Guess I know who’s next in line at the slaughterhouse.” Bill observed Sue on the TV.

“Like hell you do.” Selina glowered.

Selina did however have some plans for Bill, ones she will be discussing with Ben and Kent as soon as the Communication Director was out of the room.

“There’s nothing incriminating about the voice memos. They might actually distract from the other issue.” Kent pointed out.

**

The first four memos were mundane day to day issues.

Selina left requests for reports and budget plans.

She also sat up meetings with defense council.

It was all business, despite Selina’s congested voice.

They hoped this would be the end of it.

“As you can see, or hear, these are just regular memos.” Mike tried.

“It doesn’t however sound like the president was in a fit state to govern.” The chair of the committee pointed out Selina’s slow, and at times difficult to comprehend speech.

“Your words not mine…” Mike scratched his moustache.

“Can you explain these next memos, from The President to a lobbyist, namely Ms. Brookheimer?”

*****

Selina’s voice croaked over the recording.

_ Next Memo: Sue, can you find me the name of that donor guy in Ohio, I don’t recall his name, but he’s short, fugly and smells like bacon. [sniffling noise] He’s the one who tried to grope Catherine last summer. End memo. _

“Mom!” Catherine grumbled. “Now the entire country knows I was groped by this creep.” 

“Catherine, not everything is about you.” Selina took a sip from her drink. “So, I was sick, I dialed Amy instead of Sue, there’s no fucking conspiracy here.”

_ Next Memo: Gary, I need some baby oil or vaseline, or whatever. I blew my nose too many times, I got tissue burns. I look like I’m dying of AIDS. End memo. _

“Christ. That’s exactly what the people want to hear from a POTUS who’s under investigation for breaching the privacy of HIV patients.”

_ Next Memo: Gary, will you find Kent for me? I tried calling but he’s not answering. Tell him when the fucking President calls, he fucking picks up… [snoring noise]. End memo. _

“This doesn’t look good.” Ben grunted. Selina squirmed in her seat.

_ Next Memo: Kent, can you stop by before you go home, I have an answer for your.. Thing. End memo. _

“I never received this memo.” Kent mumbled.

“This should’ve been a personal phone message, damnit.” Selina shook her head. Something terrible was about to happen.

_ Next Memo: Actually, Kent, I need to tell you this now before I change my mind. End memo. _

Selina jumped to her feet, “No, fuck, no! Ben you need to stop this, fuck!”

_ Next Memo: You can’t leave the campaign, it’s not because I don’t like you as well. I have feelings for you too, but you know what, I also have feelings for America, and it’s like that thing with Star Wars and Star Trek we talked about, you can’t like them both equally. It’s not just the sex either, which was awesome, you may look like a math nerd on the outside, but you’re the fucking best dick I’ve ever had. End memo. _

The room descended into stunned silence.

Until Catherine burst out laughing, that is.

_ Next Memo: You of all people should know, this fucking election is more important, my career is more important. I am the first woman president, and I can’t choose having a relationship with you then wonder later if changing campaign managers in the last minute is why I lost. I can’t publicly be in a relationship right now either. Which by the way is a not a choice a candidate with a penis would have to make in this fucked-up misogynistic town. I have to win. I still wanna make Catherine proud, and I need to rub it in mother’s face. She said I’d never amount to anything. Did ya know she also made fun of my hair? [sniffling and crying noise]. End memo. _

Selina glanced at Kent who had his head cradled in his hands.

Catherine’s shoulders shook with the laughter she tried to suppress.

_ Next Memo: I don’t want you to take a job somewhere else. Stay here until we win, so I could get an actual inauguration, with Billy Joel serenading me. So I could stop running and start doing actual stuff to help those moms and other poor motherfuckers all over the country. I guess this is me breaking up with you for real this time, maybe in eight years, when I’m no longer president, we can try again. Unless you won’t be able to get it up by then, then hard luck. See what I did there? [coughing noise]. End memo. _

Kent got up and left the room.

_ Next Memo: Gary, I had a coughing fit and wet myself a little… End Memo. _

 

_ **** _

 

_ House Judiciary Committee Hearing - Day Four _

“I have a statement I'm going to read.”

Selina sat in front of the camera and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“I apologize to the American people for the language I have recently used, I respect all Americans, poor or not. I also respect all men, including my opponent. I have had no contact with lobbyists, as proven by the evidence provided during the hearings. As for the data breach, It was entirely the fault of White House Communication Director, Mr. Bill Erickson, he was fired and will be brought to a swift justice.”

_ “How much influence did Mr. Davison have on your decisions regarding budget cuts and foreign policy?”  _ The investigator inquired.

“You fucking…” Selina trailed off, she took a deep breath. “I have nothing further to say.”

**

Selina entered the residence, toed off her shoes and collapsed on the bed.

Her day was what kids these days call a dumpster fire. But then again, so was this entire fucking year.

All her life, all her hard work has led up to this election, the one she’d lost the moment those fucking memos started to play.

Her legacy was going down as a sex scandal, a glorified C-Span break up, as well as a drugged up rant against the patriarchy, with a pinch of sexual innuendo.

She’d meant every word she said the night she left him that message, winning the presidency was the one thing Selina was unwilling to compromise.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Selina hasn’t seen Kent since the evening before. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to be anywhere near her.

He’d opened up and put everything on the line, and Selina chose the campaign over him. Again.

Selina also meant every other word she said in her message, she had seriously inconvenient feelings for him, she missed him so intensely, it scared the shit out of her.

She was Selina fucking Meyer and she wasn’t afraid of anything, except, perhaps, letting someone into her life, and risking more hurt and disappointment.

Selina dragged the covers up and over herself, not bothering to change out of her dress. 

She switched off the lights and went to sleep.

 

****

 

_ House Judiciary Committee Hearing - Day Five _

“No fucking loyalty is what it is.”

Selina slammed her fist on the desk.

Ben didn’t flinch.

He pushed the envelope containing Kent’s resignation towards her.

“For fuck’s sake Madam President, we’ve all had enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

Ben sighed and handed her his ipad.

Selina scrolled through an investigation on  _ Politico  _ of Kent Davison, his career history, his finances, his family, his mother’s health, his sister and her family.

“Jesus Christ.” Selina rubbed a hand across her eyes.

The most private, guarded person Selina had ever met, has been the sole subject of the news cycle for the past twenty-four hours.

“There’s more.” Ben mumbled.

Another story on the Fox News website quoted Kent years ago criticizing the war that killed his brother in law, under a headline which read “The President’s Lover Hates Our Troops.”

“Are these people for real?” Selina groaned.

Selina went ahead and clicked an external link at the bottom of the page, titled “The Secret Criminal Life of The President’s Sex Partner.”

The story linked to some page six kind of website, there was a photo of Kent with a bunch of grim looking burly men, all dressed in leather and standing next to gigantic motorcycles. According to this piece, Kent was part of a Spanish speaking biker gang, based in West Virginia.

“Please tell me this is  _ not  _ photoshopped?” Selina’s eyes widened.

“Doesn’t matter, politics are about perception not facts. You know that. He knows that. It’s officially open season for the O’Brien camp to circulate stories villainizing Kent Davison.”

She could only imagine the nightmare Kent must be living right now.

“What are we gonna do now?”

“We gave them Bill, the hearings will conclude today. We still got to endure another three weeks of this shit, and well, like it or not you still got a country to run, until the next guy takes over.”

Selina sighed.

“It’s over. I’ve fucking lost, haven’t I?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“He’s really gone for good?” She looked down at her hands.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same?”

Selina moved to sit next to Ben on the couch facing the presidential seal.

Three more weeks to go… She turned to Ben with a question.

“Did you bring the booze?”

 

-TBC-

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Welcome to my first fic.  
> Other than some excellent fics on this archive, there's very little Selina/Kent fan-work in this world, so I had to do something -_- I hope you will share your feedback :) Thank you!  
> In the meantime, new Veep tonight!


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